


i hoped you would return (and you hoped i would follow)

by nogohello



Series: Of leaving, returning and staying [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Number Five | The Boy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good Sibling Number Five | The Boy, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of feels yk, Multi, No Incest, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Other, POV Alternating, Parent Number Five | The Boy, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogohello/pseuds/nogohello
Summary: "Lila is about to dismiss the news of this strange figure, but then the kettle whistles and thunder roars and she turns around to see the look on Five’s face.And it’s not a good look at all."--------In which the Hargreeves Siblings unite, Lila discovers who she is and everyone learns how to build a home.Featuring sibling shenanigans; bickering, bonding and forgiving.Part 2 of the series. Reading Part 1 is recommended.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Lila Pitts & Everybody, Number Five | The Boy & Lila Pitts, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone, The Hargreeves Family
Series: Of leaving, returning and staying [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976401
Comments: 77
Kudos: 220





	1. and the ghosts called for you to come home

If there’s one thing Lila Pitts believes in, it’s her gut feeling.

Her teachers and classmates will often roll their eyes or even make snarky comments whenever she refuses to do something purely because _it doesn't feel right,_ but Lila has frankly never cared and never will care.

Or at least she cannot care enough to make an effort to change. She’d rather listen to herself and be scolded for it than blindly do what she is told.

The girl is glad that Five doesn't really care about her grades, at least as long as she got by, and whenever he gets called to Lila’s school office for her so-called “behavioral issues”, he is even more eager to leave than her—so whatever the teacher will complain about, he politely shrugs it off and makes up some lazy vow to teach her to do better.

As to be expected they’ve come to have a bit of a reputation over the years; the weird (and far too young) single dad who never talked and seemed to live in his own world, and the loud-mouthed, impulsive daughter who barely had any friends but still stuck her nose in everyone’s business.

Does Lila have a mom? Are her and “ _Mr Pitts_ ” even related? And why did they live so far off from everyone else? Well, the last person to ask her got a mean kick in the shin, so there’s that. She might be nosy herself, but she can’t stand people who are incapable of minding their own business. Call her a hypocrite, but it is how it is.

Now back to Lila’s gut feeling. Because it certainly is going crazy today.

One could compare the sensation to a cold chill creeping up behind her ears and spreading down her cheeks, a faint ghost of a breeze constantly blowing in her face. The cooler it is, the worse the situation; and _today_ Lila is _freezing_.

It’s a Friday and the 14-year-old has managed to convince Five to let her stay home. After all it’s not that hard to pretend you’re sick when it literally feels like you left your head in a freezer overnight (and Five also knows she can be even more stubborn than him, which says a lot, so he doesn't even try arguing about it)

She’s accompanied him to the library where he works from time to time (although from what she has gathered, they seem to be wealthy enough to be able to get by for decades without working) and is now sitting off in a corner, staring holes into the air.

The librarian is very strict about silence at all times, even though currently there’s barely anyone present, and Five is too busy to entertain her. Or at least he pretends to be.

In the background there’s a nice, constant sounding of traffic and early March rain. It reminds her of that one time, where she and Mollie, a girl from school, went out to catch some frogs during a storm and so decided to skip class. Lila was a real talent at guessing where those little, slippery animals would emerge from, and by noon they could’ve had a whole army of them. But the fun didn’t last too long—they got in quite some trouble for missing school and the next day Mollie told her that her parents forbid her from ever playing with her again.

A trouble-maker is what they call her.

In truth it had been both girls’ idea, but no-one at school seemed to believe that.

Well, Lila could care less, right? She really, really could.

But some days it’s really all she can think about.

* * *

Caught up in her own thoughts an hour or two pass her by and soon enough Five’s shift ends. Something about his eyes and tense posture tell her that today isn’t his best either, and so they make their way home with little words attached.

Absent-mindedly she watches the raindrops race down the car-window in a soothing song of pitter-patter and she runs her hands down the fabric of her seat.

Something inside her wants to turn on the car-radio but that damned thing has been broken for a while now. _Stupid._

Small things bother Lila. Often more than big things, she believes, because they seem as though they must be so much easier to solve or overcome, but end up staying twisted just the same.

Her parents, murdered by two strangers. Now just a memory replaying without sound, muted and blurry and fuzzy—as if dust had settled on it. _That’s a big thing._

Her adoptive father, best friend and sidekick Five and his mysterious involvement and sudden presence in her life. _A big thing._

Those weird moods of hers that make her feel like her inside has been pulled outside and like there’s a source of intangible and untameable power running through her bones that she can’t quite form yet. _Big, big, big._

But the car-radio? _Small._ The cold skin around her eyes? _Small._ The bruise that has yet to form on her left knee from self-defense training with Five yesterday? _Annoying and small._

It all makes her feel small as well.

Ever since she was little Lila has been dreaming to be something bigger and better than herself. And it seems unbearable that she can’t even change inconveniences of such tiny degree. She’s just waiting, waiting for this one fateful day—where life takes another turn and she finds out who she really is supposed to be. Sometimes it seems like she’s floating high above the battlefield, unable to jump into action.

The sight of their familiar home is what grounds her to earth again.

* * *

The house they’ve been living in is a bit cramped but cozy, located at the edge of town and by the most beautiful (and only) lake Lila had ever seen. She has seen beaches and mountains and endless fields though, during their annual road-trips.

Inside they hang up their wet coats by the bathtub and Lila puts on the kettle to make them some tea.

“Can we turn on the TV during lunch?”, she asks whilst waiting for the water to boil, with her sweetest smile and her head slightly tilted, and Five chuckles, tossing her the remote. He always says that he is immune to her mind-manipulation, but truly, Lila doubts it.

He usually gives in, after all.

Five prepares the dishes and heats up yesterday’s leftovers as she zaps from channel to channel, waiting to find something interesting to settle on.

Suddenly it catches her, a harsh stinging in her cheeks and she stops to a halt. Her gut rings the alarm. Her breath hitches. Outside the storm grows like an orchestral swell in a symphony. It’s the daily news.

_“We are saddened to report the death of Reginald Hargreeves, who is most importantly known as the founder of the Umbrella Academy and father of the once famous superhero kids, one of them being the critically-acclaimed actress Allison Hargreeves. It was reported he passed away peacefully in his sleep last night, on the 21 st of March. More information will follow swiftly.”_

Lila is about to dismiss the news of this strange figure but then the kettle whistles and thunder roars and she turns around to see the look on Five’s face.

And it’s not a good look at all.


	2. face to face with decisions, unmade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanya And A Sleepless Night.
> 
> This fic is going to be canon-divergent in more ways than one. Some changes you already know--I'm also gonna be changing the timeline (specifically the date of Doomsday) and remove/add some events.  
> What I am going for is keeping everyone in character (though I might give them different developement than in the show) 
> 
> I do have a specific path for all this in mind but I'm open for requests and all. I'm also grateful for any comments and hope you guys enjoy this :))

Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Her father has just died and Vanya does not mourn, does not shed a tear, does not even say a word in the beginning.

She receives the news through television first, which she deems as oddly fitting, before the small envelope calling for her to attend his funeral reaches her flat.

Dad’s dead. Huh.

And Vanya feels nothing but a hollow, pulsating stone in her chest. A familiar phantom of an emotionless boulder weighing her down.

At first, she considers cancelling her violin classes and orchestra rehearsals for the week or at least the day, but then she stops to really ask herself: Why?

Why take her time for this man who did not have a single caring bone in his body? Why prioritise honouring him over her work? Over the work she built for herself, without the privilege of powers and luck?

And if she’s being honest to herself: nobody would really want her to attend anyway. She’s never been part of the Academy after all. She doesn’t belong.

So, what reason would she have?

Soon enough it also dawns on her that this would additionally mean going back to her childhood home, the place she was caged in for years, with the people she once thought of as her family. Facing them would be hard, especially after she published that damned book.

But hey, they deserved that. Or at least she wants to believe they did.

Most of all she deserved to be heard. To be seen. To show herself.

To cope with the shit of a childhood she had had.

With an uncertain motion and a quiver in breath Vanya props the letter up on her desk, right next to her typewriter. She’d at least have the rest of the day to ponder over it some more.

It’s not that important anyway.

She’s not that important.

* * *

The following night Vanya finds herself unable to sleep, uneasy with her unmade decision on mind and a hot humming under her skin.

She’s used to feeling restless and numb, but somehow this is different. It’s all... _eerily quiet_.

And all Vanya really wants is _noise_.

She’d do some violin practise—even just boring scales to drown out her thoughts—but the risk of her neighbors calling the cops on her at 1am is too high, and some ugly paranoia within her doesn’t want to turn on the TV for distraction, in case there’s anything about her father being reported.

And lord is she _tired_ , tired of everything and everyone and most of all herself. The fact she just had to run out of her anxiety meds right when her pharmacy is closed due to renovations is just _wonderful_ as well. Maybe that’s why her whole body seems almost electrified at the moment. Tingling and turning in itself.

Back when they were all kids, her siblings and her, Number Five would often jump to her room at night, knowing they were both chronic insomniacs to some extent.

He’d ramble to her about calculations and theories and possible outcomes and she’d tell him about the novel she’d just read and the piece she is playing. And for a couple of scarce, fleeting minutes everything would seem fine.

And it’d make her naively believe that it would always stay fine. But then he left.

He left her.

You see; when she lost him, she completely lost everyone else as well.

Because Five was her tie to all her other siblings. He’d try to include her, make sure she’s not left out. He’d encourage her to recommend books to Ben (sweet, pure-hearted and now _dead_ Ben) and tell Klaus to braid her hair. He'd convince Diego to let her help him and mom with making breakfast. He’d conveniently pull Allison and her into a conversation before he’d leave for his individual training and he even got Luther to allow her to listen to his records with him from time to time.

Five would take the blame and diminish the damage when Reginald caught them up after their assigned bedtime. Five would ask her to accompany them to Griddy’s, and grin at the sight of her stuffing her face with donuts and gulping down a milkshake in one go. Five would tell her a bit about how their mission went and if everyone’s okay. And _goddamnit,_ Five gave up his name to make sure she’d receive one, after their dad told Grace to name “the six of them”. Vanya knew he never cared much for titles and appearing normal anyway, but it still mattered. It still mattered _a lot._

Yes, Five would listen and Five would talk.

But he also _left_ and never returned. Making all the peanut-butter-and-marshmallow-sandwiches she left him and all the lights kept on at night in vain.

She should be happy for him, right?

Beneath all that longing for his company and grieving after his disappearance, she should be glad.

He got out of that hell-hole and got to live his own life. Her brother had been better off without them. And perhaps she’d have chosen to do the same if she had had the chance.

But right now, she just feels bitter and frustrated—and maybe under all that paralysing numbness she’s even angry.

 _Shit,_ how fucking stupid is that?

The night is dragging on endlessly and Vanya wishes for the rain that’s been broadcasted for tomorrow to come earlier than expected. Right when it’s been pouring by the bucketload all day, the weather has to turn around and be uncomfortably boring at this hour.

It’s all so much and so little at the same time.

And she should sleep, huh?

Well, maybe some warm milk can help her. It’s better than tossing and turning for another hour, at least.

* * *

The orange illumination brought in from the streetlamps outside her flat is bright enough for Vanya to sip her beverage thoughtlessly without having to turn on her lights.

She decides to put in some honey as well and enjoys the sound of her spoon clinking as she stirs it around. _Sound._ That’s what she had been craving, may it be something as timid and insignificant as metal against a cup.

Time passes, bit by bit.

Vanya decides to close her eyes. The spoon clinks on. Sings to her.

Something is pulsing through her veins. Ticking like a time-bomb.

Her eye-lids flutter open once more, gaze wandering from the kitchen-counter to her desk in the next room, barely able to be made out in the dark, only faint lines traced against the wall.

There it all is.

The letter. Her typewriter—

Her book. Her sister and brothers.

The letter, her book, her typewriter. Her siblings. Her father.

Five, Five, Five. The letter. Her violin. The _letter._

(Reginald Hargreeves is dead.)

Vanya. The letter. The spoon, the cup. Her pills.

Vanya. Noise. _Everything._

The letter. Sound. Five. _Nothing, nothing, nothing._

 _Vanya_!

And suddenly the cup by her hand violently explodes into the tiniest shards, one cutting thinly through her left cheek-bone. The milk is spilled all over the table and on her shirt; the spoon’s been whirled across the room, now lying on the floor.

Vanya jumps up, her face streaked with terror and confusion. She hunches in on herself, shoulder shaking, and tries to make sense of what had happened. Her hand reaches up to wipe the small bit of blood away, that had oozed from the minor wound.

 _Tired._ She’s tired. That must be it, right?

She probably just nodded off for a split second and pushed the cup off the edge of the table. Nothing grave. Just a sign that she should really go to bed again.

After all, nothing exciting ever takes place in her life. Colorless, ordinary Vanya and her unimportant, boring life.

* * *

Before she heads back to her bedroom, Vanya takes one last look at the envelope she’d been sent. The paper’s thin and smooth to the touch and almost makes her fingers twitch.

_Reginald Hargreeves is dead._

And Vanya’s going to attend his funeral tomorrow.


	3. beginnings of ends and speaking of both

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five and Lila, Lila and Five

About two hours.

Two hours from their house to the Academy.

Traffic is no problem at this hour and the rain has vanished as well.

So it's just two hours. 120 minutes. 7200 seconds.

Five watches as Lila packs her stuff, a prominent pout on her lips. She’s of course unhappy about him rushing her without context, but he has neither the time nor patience to give her the whole story right now.

He could’ve seen it coming, he really could’ve. His father had never been the youngest after all (he’s always seemed ancient to his siblings and him), and with the approaching End of the World _something_ had had to happen.

He just didn’t expect it to be this.

Five damns himself for pushing the subject away for this long. But the moment has come, he guesses. It’s now or never. For worse or for better.

He quickly phones the school to inform them that his daughter would be staying home longer than previously expected and uses his words to dramatically paint a fake picture of the poor thing having caught the worst cold of her life.

The man can’t help but smirk at his own lying skills as he ends the call.

He had had about 32 hours of intense training concerning "deception abilities" during his Commission years, so that’s that. And he also likes to think he’s always been a natural.

“Ready?”, he asks when Lila finally squeezes her last important belongings into one of her bags and grabs her jacket. She only gives him a cold glare in response, but heads for the door.

“Alright then. Off we go.”

* * *

Five can sense the even thicker tension as soon as he gets into the driver’s seat.

The girl has her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes piercing him like literal daggers.

And Five has met some quite scary people in his life, he really has, but no-one is as intimidating as his teenage daughter, it seems.

So, with a defeated sigh he gets the car going and huffs “What do you want to know?”

Of course, the first thing he receives back is a scoff and an exaggerated eye-roll. Only after a minute or two Lila replies “Where are we going?”

“The Umbrella Academy”

She eyes him.

“Umbrella? Like the thing from the news?”

“Yep.” Five says, popping the ‘p’.

“And that man? The one who died?”

“He’s...-well, he’s my father, I guess.”

Lila turns to him. “You guess?”

No reply. Another minute or two of silence.

“And we’re going to his funeral, or what?”

“We are.”

“Well then I’m ecstatic to mourn someone you never introduced me to.”

Five laughs in a bitter and overly loud tone. “You should thank me for that, really. Also, there's no reason to mourn him.”

He rubs his face with one hand.

“Listen: I know I don’t tell you enough. And you’re too smart and deserve better than to just be met with ‘ _I’m only doing this for you.’,_ but it really is like that, you know? There’s a lot of complicated stuff going on and I don’t know what lies ahead. I just am certain that some of it is really dangerous, Lila.”

He can feel her eyes on him. Can picture how disappointed they look.

“Well, I at least deserve to know what we’re getting involved in now.”

“It’s a lot to expl-”

“You said it’s a two-hour-drive, so you better get started then.”

“Fine! You saw the news report, right? You heard them mention the Academy.”

Lila raises an eyebrow. “Right. The superhero kids.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m one of them?”

The girl turns her face towards the road again. Five wonders what’s going through her head. He had told her about his time-travelling work before and she knows that they’re not exactly an average family—so him having been a member of a crime-fighting squad of minors won’t seem too far off, he’d suppose.

But then again, having grown up the way he did and spent his teenage years without any human contact in a post-apocalyptic world _and_ worked as an assassin for five years, he’s not really the best at telling what’s normal and what not in that context.

“So… you’re a hero? You’ve got powers?”

“I do. Basically, I can manipulate the time-space-continuum. _Blink_ is what we’d call it, which is basically jumping from one place or from one moment to another. There's far more to it than that, especially when blinking through time, but that's the gist of it.”

He takes one side-glance at the girl and can immediately read what’s written across her face. _Proof it._

As to be expected, really.

“I can show you, but not now. When we’re somewhere all safe and quiet, okay?”

Lila sighs with impatience. “What about the Academy then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d it exist?”

Something close to amusement crosses Five’s face. “Hah. Good question. What we were mostly taught to do was fight. Stop criminals and the likes. I was basically a child star, you know? The great Number Five with his wits and good looks. I was everyone's favourite.”

“Oh _shut up,_ old man. Wait—So’s that why your name is a number?”

“’Bout time you questioned it. It is. Our dad literally ranked us. One to Seven. He’d always explain that it’s got something to do with potential and utility, but I’d bet my liver and left ear that he just came into the nursery one day when we were little and randomly counted through, and that was it. I mean, nobody can tell me Luther’s the best out of all of us. Dad just decided to use the numbers against us.”

“Your dad sounds like an asshole, you know?”

“I’d correct your language, _young lady_ , but I have to whole-heartedly agree. He was a fucking asshole, that piece of shit.”

Lila snorts at his choice of words and signature sharp tone.

“Woah. Cutting a corpse’s throat here, _Mister Pitts_ ”

Five drew his brows together with a small smile. “Where’d you get that from?”

“What do I know. Some book, I guess. You make me wait for you at the library all the time, I've gotta do something!”

“Educating yourself is a lovely thing. I’m being a responsible parent here.”

“Right. And I’m the queen of Constantinople. And as a queen I can also tell that you’re trying to change the topic.”

“Fine.”, he muttered,” What else do you desire to know, _your Highness_?”

“Well, what about the others? What can they do?”

“You’ll see. You’ll meet them there, I think. First, we’re gonna get a hotel room and some food and then tomorrow we’ll pay my childhood home a visit. I don’t know when they’re going to ‘say their last goodbye’ to old Hargreeves or whatever, but I think the mansion is the best place to get in touch with them. My siblings, I mean.”

The thought of it makes him nervous already, though Five would never admit it in front of anyone. Not even himself. But he knows that there’s no way it’s going to be easy.

They’d all gone their separate paths; some more and some less willingly, but still. He has no idea who they’ve grown into, even with the bits of information gathered over the years. And hell knows how they’re going to react to him returning after all this time.

He’d love for it to be simple—but if it were, it wouldn’t be right.

Saving the world cannot be easy. And in addition to that, the Hargreeves have never done things the uncomplicated way. Runs in the family, he guesses.

In the metaphorical blood they share.

Trying to focus on the road Five fidgets with the car-radio, knowing damn well it is broken. But maybe some miracle will provide a sort of distraction for the grumpy pubescent child next to him; and if not, it’s at least a distraction to him.

It’s going to be a long drive, he senses.

* * *

Dusk is already breaking through the clouds when they finally arrive. Passing through the semi-familiar streets makes Five feel like a stranger to himself, and the almost poetic sounding concept of it makes him spiritually gag.

 _Feelings._ He hates them.

They get a room at a small but comfortable local hotel and grab sandwiches and drinks from the next convenience store across the road. Lila’s suddenly a whirlwind of energy again, opposing her former sulking state, and she essentially drags him around for the rest of the evening.

Five doesn’t mind, not at all. And he appreciates her talking and talking and stumbling over her words a lot more than being interrogated himself.

He’s never really taken her to a city before, only other small towns and spots in nature, and everything about it seems to fascinate her wildly. The lights, the cars, the shops and restaurants.

And they’re not even in a lively part right now.

But Five clearly remembers being younger and getting to leave the Academy once in a while. They’d all get excited watching the people on the street when they drove by them after a mission, and nightly escapades to the holiest place on earth, called “Griddy’s”, were filled with astonishment at the most basic things.

He almost misses their constant bickering—one of their hottest topics always being who’s the strongest. They’d been raised with a tight rivalry, after all, and a constant need for validation. But sometimes they’d also rant about trivial aspects of life: whether Klaus would manage to steal a pair of mom’s shoes, whether Allison could convince (or rumour) Pogo into playing hide-and-seek with them or whether Vanya could beat Ben in a game of “Who can eat the most donuts?”.

His siblings were always what mattered most in Five’s brain. His family.

They’re all he’d dream about, day and night, during the apocalypse. All he could sense behind all that fog, all that smoke.

 _Memories._ Five doesn’t like those either.

* * *

They’ve finally made their way back to the hotel and Five gets to lunge at his bed like predator at prey.

Exhaustion melts into his skin as he buries his face in his pillow. Tomorrow would be a _long_ day, and the man tends to wake several times a night, so he better squeeze in as much relaxation as he can get.

Of course, when you’re a single father to a girl with a temper challenging Diego’s, you’re in bad luck.

“The conversation’s not over, you know?”, he can hear her whisper-shout from her side of the room, just after he's turned off the lights.

When he tries to pretend he didn't hear and doesn’t answer, she promptly walks over to slap him with her pillow. A soft weapon but a violent act.

“Scooch over.”

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Did so yesterday. Now _scooch_ and talk to me, idiot.”

With an exaggerated groan he makes her some space. “Five minutes, you hear me? I’ll tell you all I can, but only for so long. Then it’s sleep and nothing else.”

…

“Did you have a mother?”

Right into action then.

“In theory. A hyper-realistically programmed robot mom. And an ape butler as well. I’m not kidding.”

“Never said you were. Why did you leave them?”

_Why did he?_

“I don’t know. I… I guess I once travelled too far and found myself unable to get back.”

Lila waits for him to continue.

“I really wanted to return. But it simply wasn’t meant to happen. So, as I’ve kinda told you before… I then got recruited to be a time-travelling assassin. They knew about my background beforehand and I was in a tricky situation, so I couldn’t turn down their offer, no matter how horrible the deal and how shady the job was.”

He swallows drily.

“And then I spent five years there, doing some horrible work, but I did it all for a reason—I can’t regret that. I shouldn’t. And umm… My last mission-… my last mission was in London.”

“And there you found me.”

Five doesn’t turn to look at her.

“I found you.”

There's a moment of comfortable silence between them.

“And what’s our mission now?” She gently nudges his leg with her foot.

“Well, _Captain Lila_ , we’re here to save the world.”

“Easy then. We’ve done that before, remember?”

He yawns. “I suppose this world is different from the one we saved at the playground or by the lake—but if you put it like that.”

He expects her to question him some more, but instead she slips out of bed and hops back in hers.

Both exchange quiet good-nights and soon enough, Five feels himself drift off to sleep.

They have a lot waiting for them.

_A lot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah I hope you guys are liking this so far.
> 
> The Hargreeves reunion is coming soon, no worries.


	4. those who are not gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego.
> 
> That's it, that's the chapter.

Diego’s week has been shit.

If he could, he’d put it a bit better—a bit nicer. But he really can’t find another word for it.

First, he had to get in over his head on one of his vigilante missions, now leaving him with some aching knuckles and a nasty bruise on his back.

Then he was caught and confronted by Eudora, his kind-of ex-girlfriend and former co-worker (before he got kicked out of the police academy, that is), and had to listen to one of her endlessly long speeches that he hates so much. Because not only are they harsh and mean, but also slightly true.

Truth isn’t what Diego wants, though. And what he doesn’t want, he doesn’t need. Simple as that.

Then some _asshole_ had to break in and vandalize the gym he works (and lives) at, resulting in him having to do lots of stupid cleaning and repairing on top of his usual shifts.

And now what?

His dad’s dead.

_Just nice. Nice, nice and nice._

It’s not that Diego particularly cares. Or no, scratch that: not a single ounce of his body gives a damn about Reginald’s passing. Now he can at least visit mom again and maybe even catch up with Pogo.

But with his death came an invitation to his funeral, and with that funeral will come his siblings, and with his siblings, all that chaos, and with that chaos-

Well.

He just _can’t wait_ to listen to Luther rubbing in his face that he’s Number One and the greatest and strongest and _Dad’s favorite,_ and whatever other stupidity inhabits his pea-brain, and as always witness Allison bragging about being the only successful and really “independent” one (when really, she’s still leeching of their childhood fame).

Klaus is probably going to be high as a kite, because… when isn’t he?

And Vanya… don’t even get him started on Vanya.

 _Shy, good-hearted Vanya,_ who literally went and ruined his last possibility to cut every single tie to the Academy by airing their private trauma and dysfunctionality for the whole world to see. Or to read, he’d suppose.

The moment her self-centered, biased piece of crap of a biography hit the shelves, it was already devoured by the masses, curious to find out what had been going on behind the scenes.

Well, there’s a reason it all stayed behind the scenes. That’s where it belonged.

Once Diego’s co-workers joined the many readers of “ _Extra-Ordinary_ ”, his time at the police academy was over. His fate was sealed, you could say.

Even Eudora got a hold of all that gossip, and it was the final, sugary cherry on top of the mess that was reasons for their break-up. (For her ending things with him.)

So if there’s one person he cannot bear to see, it’s Vanya.

Because he’s used to his other siblings being narcissistic, ego-centric idiots—but Vanya, his little sister by spirit, he had trusted. Vanya he had thought to understand, to care.

Every bubble has to burst at some point, no?

For now, Diego’s focusing on his daily work-out, to get rid of that blinding frustration building up behind his eyes. He’d always felt and thought through fists and gritted teeth, and right now he needs the rush.

He doesn’t care if this is going to make his injuries worse. It’s worth it if he doesn’t have to listen to his thoughts.

Of course, sometimes it’s not that easy.

“Someone for you on the phone!”, Al, the owner of the gym, shouts from the other room.

And something inside Diego had already seen it coming.

Life’s out to get him, after all.

* * *

“Eudora, now is really not the time.”

The woman on the other line sighs.

“Don’t call me that. And I don’t care if this works well for you or not, you can’t keep on running away. Listen, I heard about your father and I’m really sorry about that, but you have to hear me out _just once._ One last time.”

Diego only gives her a nearly silent hum and waits for her to go on.

“You need to stop doing your… vigilante thing or whatever it is. I don’t care if you’re good at it, I don’t care if you can handle the consequences, I don’t _care_ if you think the people need you. I know you mean well, Diego. And I don’t wanna tell you to stop being a hero-“

“But you want me to stop saving people’s asses, right? That’s what you want.”

“If you’re going to continue doing it illegally and risking your life when things can be handled differently, then _yes._ Stop it.”

Diego scratches the back of his head and takes a deep breath. Why did talking to Eudora always have to be this tiring?

“I admit what I did last time went too far; I’m paying the price, you know? But it’s just bruises and scratches, which is far less than what I used to emerge with after training with my siblings. In all those missions I haven’t even broken a bone once, or gotten stabbed.”

Judging from Eudora’s _“good lord”_ on the other, she is neither convinced nor relieved.

“Next time I catch you I’m gonna make sure it’s final, Hargreeves. I’m not making loose threats here—I mean it. What you pulled yesterday was reckless and I take my job seriously. I can’t just let that slide-“

“Wait, wait, wait. Slow down there.”

Diego furrows his eyebrows and presses the phone closer to his ear.

“I didn’t do anything last night.”

“Don’t even try it! You just said yourself you went too far, you-“

“Yeah, but I meant that one time in the alleyway! Last time, when those robbers suddenly ganged up on me out of the blue!”

Eudora’s voice turns from angry to confused. “What do you mean? But just this morning we got some people turning in, telling us they witnessed a strange man in black clothing harassing citizens.”

“But that could be anyone… And I don’t harass people!”

“Yeah, sure. I mean, I agree. But then they also said that he kept mentioning the Umbrella Academy, and he was constantly asking around for your sister, Vanya. Where she lives and works, and demanding that she come and face him. And then witnesses said he had knives on him, that he tried to threaten people with for information, so that was the final straw for me.”

For a moment neither of them says anything more, as Diego tries to process the information.

_Strange man._

_Black clothing._

_Academy, Vanya, knives._

“I-… I really don’t know who that is. Maybe it was just some drunkard who used to be a fan or read her book. That’s possible, right? But I swear to God it wasn’t me. I spent last night here, at the gym. Just working myself sore. You can ask others, they saw me.”

Eudora exhales shakily. _“This is exactly what I don't need right now..._ Well, I’ll keep working on that case, but the clues end there, so far. Well, whatever happens, I want you to stop doing those things, even if last night’s got nothing to do with you. I _need_ you to stop putting yourself and others in danger.”

She pauses for a bit.

“But… but I still wish you the best with the funeral, alright? I'm fed up, but not heartless. Don’t do anything stupid, Hargreeves.”

“I’ll try my best, Patch.”

The call cuts off.

Diego guesses he could count that as another pile of shit on top of his week.

* * *

It’s the morning of the funeral.

Diego’s right there, by the grand gates of the mansion he spent seventeen years of his life locked in.

He feels like he’s stepping through a too lucid nightmare. Trying to will his body to turn around, but his feet keep on walking forward, towards the house he's dreading to enter.

The sky is made up of shades varying from dark ashes to pale dust; it looks like it’s going to rain soon. When he concentrates, he can already pick up a faint smell of ozone on the wind.

Hesitantly, he knocks on the door.

It opens but a second after.

Seeing Pogo for the first in a long time is what really makes Diego realize what’s happening right now. _The_ _real deal_. He’s reuniting with his family.

Or well, most of his family. Those who are not _gone._

Right behind Pogo is his mom, perfect and smiling from one ear to the other, as always. He immediately reaches out to hug her and she gently pats his back.

It feels weird to be towering above her slightly, when he used to be able to hide behind her skirts and tug on her aprons to ask for her attention. He’d really like to still be able to do that as he did as a kid, he finds, but mom really is one of the only parts of his childhood that doesn’t feel gruesome and painful in hindsight.

“Diego, love!”, she greets him with bright eyes, after they break off their embrace, “How nice of you to come by.”

He smiles back at her and holds her hand shortly, but then notices who else is standing there, right by the stairs.

Both of his sisters, the actress and the author.

One with her arms crossed and a smug look on her face; the other with her eyes on the floor and shoulders drawn up tightly.

“Sooo, you made it, too, Diego. Means it’s full house now.”

“And you came all the way from LA, Allison?”, he replies, trying not to show any annoyance as he speaks.

“I did. Hopped on the next flight here, right once I got the news.”

She goes on with some small talk about airports and taxis, but Diego turns his eyes to the other woman standing right beside her.

The sight of her on its own makes his blood boil.

“How’s the money?", he presses out slowly, "Heard your book’s doing well.”

Vanya’s eyes shoot up to meet his and she immediately seems to grow smaller. It’s almost pitiable.

“I guess. It’s-… It’s good to have that next to my violin teaching.”

Diego prepares to fire some passive-aggressive comment back, when another, loud voice joins in.

“ _Mein Lieblingsbruder,_ you’re finally here as well?”

Klaus exudes as much chaotic energy as ever, with his skirt and smudged make-up, and he lifts his arms to throw one around Allison’s shoulder. With him, Luther also enters the room, and Diego and him exchange small, subtle glares—he can already feel the words bubbling up in his throat.

It was going to be a long, _long_ day.

And it had barely started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next POV is probably Klaus :) I'll try and give every sibling a turn, but of course some more than others. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented or left kudos so far. It makes my day!


	5. oh my god we're back again

There’s something universally screwed up about being the middle child of the family—even if technically all of your siblings, including you, are the exact same age.

But when you’re stuck as Number Four, sandwiched between three other children on each side your whole childhood long (until two on one side disappeared), you’re bound to end up as the greatest disappointment of your family, right?

Right.

At least that’s how it turned out for Klaus.

Everyone’s always nagging; _Klaus do this, Klaus do that. Klaus you need to stop being a brainless junkie and get your shit together._

It’s exhausting. And at the same time having to deal with the wailing of ghosts 24/7 doesn’t help either.

His whole life is just one inconvenience after the other.

So if there’s a way to drown out the noise and mute his own awareness of how messed up his entire existence is and has always been, Klaus is going to choose that way. Over anything else in life.

Or well, he _would_ , in most cases. But then sometimes, _just sometimes_ , there’s this tiny voice telling him to open his eyes and stop for a moment. To take a breath and listen to what his heart is telling him. To do what’s _right_.

That tiny voice is the voice of his deceased brother Ben and it is the most aggravating thing in Klaus’ daily life. One of the many, many inconveniences.

“You know you’ve gotta attend the funeral, Klaus. You know it.”

They’re currently hanging around in some narrow alley and Klaus can’t even remember how he got there. It’s not that he’s done anything to have forgotten, it’s just that he’s taken on the habit of not paying attention to where he’s going. At all times.

“There’s no uuuuse. Why spend some time in that creepy, old house, risking running into Reggie’s ghost somewhere in one of its many rooms, when I can just… _have a good time_ , ya know?”

He wiggles his eyebrows as he finishes the sentence.

Ben only gives him a dead-stare. “You _just_ got out of rehab, dude. Come on, everyone else is probably going to attend, too.”

Klaus puts his hands on his hips.

“If you’re trying to convince me you’re doing a real bad job, _Benny-boy_.”

“You can finally make things right, Klaus! And maybe now you can stay sober enough to work on your powers as well.”

The man blows a raspberry and lazily waves his hand around. “Why’s it always about what I need to do for everyone else. Nobody ever listens to me! And I was forced to work on my powers far too much as a kid, so _finito_ on that topic. I’ve already told you often enough that I can’t make you visible.”

He turns from his brother and starts walking away, but Ben immediately appears right in front of him again.

“ _Jesus,_ would you stop pestering me?!”

“I’ll stop if you promise me you'll go. Please. _Klaus_ , I never ask anything of you, so just-“

“Fine! Lord. I have nowhere else to go anyway. And it’s cold and probably gonna pour later, so whatever.” He runs one hand through his curls. “But don’t expect me to do some grand spectacle of bonding and playing house with our _wonderful,_ adopted siblings, okay?”

Ben looks at him with the most glowing, joyous smile. _Ugh._

And that’s how Klaus Hargreeves ends up at the Academy, after nearly fifteen years of having been gone.

* * *

The mansion is just as in Klaus' memories. Tidied and huge and devoid of any liveliness.

Weird to think it was once filled with the echoes of seven toddlers. The sound must’ve always been overshadowed by Reginald’s strict regime.

As he enters, Klaus gives Pogo and mom two enthusiastic, short hugs and then immediately takes a stroll to look for some valuable, easily stealable artifacts for his departure later.

What else is there to do in a place such as this?

He tries to block out whatever Ben’s trying to communicate to him and even manages to reach dad’s study without paying attention to any of the ghosts lurking around the corners and calling for him. (But _God,_ drugs or booze would for sure make it easier.)

Klaus can hear both Vanya’s and Allison’s voices from another room, and he’s sure Luther is roaming around somewhere as well, but the longer he can avoid them all, the better.

He’s not here to pretend they’re a happy family after all. And even less here to act as though he is grieving his dad’s death.

For a couple of minutes, Klaus checks around for vases and books or whatever valuable and piles it all in one corner of the room.

“Seriously?”, Ben tuts from somewhere behind.

Klaus only hisses back at him and continues.

Soon enough he hears Pogo call for him, and Klaus hurries and stuffs some last pens and a journal in the pockets of his coat.

Now he just needs to behave naturally. (Which is kind of easy when your normal state of being is quite _weird_ already.)

* * *

It’s very much like his brothers to start fighting the moment they come across each other.

Starting with Diego making comments about Luther’s size, to Luther, of course, somehow pulling the I’m-Number-One-card. It immediately spirals. Klaus doesn’t even have to actively listen to know every single argument they’re throwing in.

Clearly, some things never change.

And by “some things”, in this moment, Klaus means the fact that they’re a bunch of dysfunctional fools who still, in one way or another, live by the rules and sentiments their father beat into them so many years ago.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come. I freaking knew it! I mean, why are we even here? To _honour_ the man who basically prohibited us from being literal children growing up?”

Luther scrunches up his nose and steps closer. “Don’t talk about dad like that! We owe him everything!” His rough tone sounds almost threatening.

“Children. What are you all so upset about?”, mom suddenly chimes in, moving elegantly as ever as she sways between the two men. “Should I make some cookies?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary…”, Vanya suggests quietly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Oh, but you all seem to be quite distressed, and we can’t have that right before a mission, can we?”

Diego, who had still been watching Luther with burning fury, snaps his head towards their mother.

“See, so this _is_ just a test. Dad set this all up… to what? Reunite his stupid superhero academy for one of his insane missions?”

The android woman just tilts her head at him, batting her eyes with an unreadable expression.

“Mom’s just confused, Diego—she’s been acting like that all day.”, Allison steps in. With a deep groan she then starts massaging her temples. “So if you two could stop attacking each other, that’d be real nice. After all we should try and start the funeral before it rains.”

“Too late”, Ben mutters from the side, standing by the windows.

 _“Told you this would be stupid”,_ Klaus mouths back at him. The other just shakes his head in response, his face looking grim.

It is then Vanya that nervously picks up the conversation again: “Okay guys, maybe we could just sit down, have some coffee or tea and… I don’t know, just catch up? How about that?”

“Coffee? And tea?”, Diego grunts dismissively and Klaus has to smirk at how much the man looks like an angry kitten.

“Well, _I,_ for one, could use a drink.”, he then laughs bitterly as he stretches his arms in boredom.

Luther gives him a condescending look. “Of course you could.”

“We don’t need goddamn coffee or tea or whatever! And sorry to tell you, Vanya, but I’m also not going to be catching up with you any time soon. Suppose you’ll have to get material for your sequel elsewhere.”

Vanya’s face tenses as her eyebrows tremble and draw together.

“Diego, I didn’t mean it li-“

“Oh yeah? I bet you didn’t mean what you said about me in those chapters either, huh? This is all such _bullshit,_ and I can’t even believe I got here. Even better, I bet there’s some ulterior move behind this. Yeah, I bet dad’s gonna walk in here any second to reveal it was all fake from the get go and then criticize me for… for m-m-my reaction time or my hot-headedness and tell me how much of a failure I am!”

“Goodness, calm down.” Allison reaches out to touch his arm.

“Master Diego, I can assure you Sir Hargreeves has officially passed, with no secret, staged plans behind-“

“ _No_. No, he always planned _something,_ Pogo. So if he’s here somewhere, he should stop being the damned asshole he is and face me!”

And in that exact moment, someone knocks at the door.

All heads turn in one direction, gaping with their mouths open as silence settles in.

Klaus immediately looks at Ben who just gives him a confused stare back. He shifts and moves to open the door, but Vanya beats him to it as she wordlessly shuffles between everyone else and unlocks it with a creak.

Outside there’s a dark-haired man, dressed up in suit and tie, and a young girl in a black dress.

They’re both a bit soaked from the rain and Klaus leans slightly forward to get a closer look at their faces. He feels a strange familiarity studying them, but cannot pin-point why.

Vanya turns shortly to catch a quick glimpse of her siblings in the back and then clears her throat. “Can- Can I help you two?”

The man presses his lips into a strange smile and narrows his eyes.

“Vanya…, right?”

Luther buries his face in his hands and clicks his tongue. “You didn’t seriously invite strangers here, did you?”

Klaus rolls his eyes at him and steps a bit closer to the entrance. “V, you know those people?”

For a moment she just stands there dumb-founded as Klaus approaches her, then she looks back at the man in front of her.

And suddenly—within one of those odd, fated moments—perfectly in sync and with the same hopeful but irritated expression Ben and Vanya recognize who’s standing there.

_“Five.”_

...Just like that, all the Hargreeves children are back in one place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for all the sweet commenters. I hope you like this chapter and promise that all the bonding will soon take place.
> 
> I don't know when the next update will be, since I'll be busy tomorrow, but I'll be working on it :)
> 
> Have a nice day, you beautiful people!


	6. inexplicable events

_Five is back._

Her brother is standing right in front of her and Vanya can’t wrap her mind around it, not even a bit.

He does look the same in many ways—with his ever so analyzing, grey eyes, to the dark, slick hair with some stray loose strands falling in his face. But he’s aged, just as they all have, and Vanya feels almost stupid at how flabbergasted she is at that fact.

Of course he’d aged.

It would be quite impossible for him to come back years later and look just as he did the day she last saw him, right?

Vanya has to muster up all her strength to not just wrap her arms around the brother she’d subconsciously thought to forever have lost, and never let go of him again.

“May we step in?”, he then politely asks (with a hint of impatience in his voice), and she realizes she’d been blocking off the doorway still, lost in her own head.

So, she awkwardly moves to the side and subtly motions for them to enter.

_Five is here._

_Five has returned._

As her brother walks by her, Vanya can’t take her eyes off of him.

She’s baffled beyond recovery.

_Five._

_It's him._

Pogo is the first to greet him and the girl he has in tow.

“Master Five”, he rasps with a firm shake of hand, “I am glad to welcome you back home again, even if under such circumstances.”

Five appears to slightly wince at the statement, but nevertheless the man keeps his composure.

He then goes to put his hand on the teenager’s shoulder and gently tugs to pull her closer. “It’s good to see you, Pogo. And everyone else as well. This here is Lila.”

Pogo also reaches out to greet her and Vanya believes to see lines of relief on his face, as the girl takes his non-human hand without hesitation.

Then the butler muses, adjusting his glasses. “How about you children do have some tea or similar and help your mom prepare a bit of food, just as previously suggested? In the meantime, I’ll get you two some towels to dry off from the rain and we can postpone the funeral by a bit.”

Five nods. “That’d be perfect. After all, I have some stuff to tell my siblings. It’s been quite a few years.”

* * *

The atmosphere is tense and unfamiliar as they all get the table ready.

Hardly anybody utters a word; it’s all just mysterious glances and unmade attempts of conversation.

When they gather and seat themselves at last (except for Grace who insists on stiffly standing in the corner), everybody turns their gazes onto Five.

Vanya can’t help but study his features closely, trying to engrave the sight into her memory as if he’s going to disappear again any second. When he catches her staring, she turns away embarrassedly.

“I’m guessing you all have questions, right?”, he starts between a few sips of his coffee whilst glimpsing at each of his siblings.

“Right.”, Allison murmurs, “Just go from the beginning and tell us everything then.”

Five leans further back in his chair. “Some stories are too long to be told in one go. But okay, I’ll go with your suggestion. The day I vanished I did time-travel, just as I planned. And, as much as I hate to say it, I did also end up travelling too far and too recklessly, just as our father predicted.”

“Where’d you go?”, Diego chimes in, twirling a knife in his right hand.

“To the future, of course. Where else would I have gone, dear brother of mine? Anyway, I spent some… _moments_ at different points in this timeline. Might tell you about it later.”

Five is about to start another sentence when Luther stands up abruptly. “Hey, you can’t just skip over it like that! That's suspicious. How do we even know you’re not just pretending?!”

In a sizzling, quick flash Five blinks from where he’s sitting to right behind his brother. They all turn around with a gasp and Lila giggles excitedly.

“Oh yeah, right. However could I prove my claim, my identity, huh?”

“ _Jesus Christ_ , I did not miss this.”, Allison exclaims with a hand on her chest.

Five jumps back and sits down again, fidgeting with his mug.

“To continue my story: I was unable to go back here for several reasons. But well, the old man’s dead now, so I thought _‘Why not?’,_ and that’s it.”

Vanya raises her eyebrows. That’s a lot less of an explanation than she’d anticipated, even from Five.

“But _why_ couldn’t you reach us?”, she asks confusedly.

“And what’d you do in the meantime?”, Klaus wants to know as well.

“And where _exactly_ were you? How was the future?”, Diego also adds.

“Do tell-“, Luther inquires, “Who is the child?”

When Vanya and the others look at Lila, she side-eyes their time-traveler brother, who blows up one cheek and slowly exhales.

“I couldn’t reach you because it was either dangerous on both sides or just plain impossible. In the meantime, I lived a life, as all of you did. Worked. Got a home. Learned how to live by myself. What else… The future is _shit,_ but also evitable, I believe. So that’s that.”

He loudly consumes his last bits of coffee, slurping until his cup is completely empty.

“And _Lila_ came into my life somewhere along the way.”

Klaus slaps his leg and throws his head back in laughter, so loudly that Vanya flinches. “Out of all of us I thought you’d be the last to become a parent. Belated congratulations on the baby from me though, Fivey.”

Five tsks. “Don’t call me that. And we’re not biologically related.”

“None of us are.”, Allison intervenes.

“Touché, but still. It makes a difference and you all know it.”

Vanya wants to go on and talk to Five a bit more, but is interrupted.

“Children”, Pogo unexpectedly calls from the door. “We could start now.”

* * *

It comes to no-one’s surprise that the funeral is of an uncomfortable nature.

Luther pretty much just dumps Reginald’s ashes down on the ground in an anti-climatic manner (which Vanya thinks is the “respectful” treatment he deserves) and Pogo gives a short, unnecessary speech on how great of a person their father was.

The unspoken anger and resentment directed towards the dead man is almost palpable, floating in the air. It’s ridiculous. Just like most things in their family.

As the short ceremony comes to its end, Vanya quietly reaches to tap Five on the shoulder.

“Hey, I… I wanted to ask whether you and Lila would maybe like to grab something to eat with me afterwards.”

“You’ll be leaving?”

“I mean, yeah. None of us live here anymore and I guess we’ll all split up in the end.”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and digs her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

“But if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I just-“

Five shakes his head and quietens her.

“Sure, Vanya. We can do that later on.”

The smile he gives her is as soft as the ones she knows from the few, bittersweet memories she possesses.

It almost scares her.

* * *

“Great, guys. Funeral’s done. See you when the next person kicks the bucket.”, Diego grumbles as he grabs his stuff from inside the house.

Allison scoffs at him. “Don’t be like that.”

“Oh come on, sweetest siblings!”, a cigarette-smoking Klaus almost-sings theatrically, “We can be proud that we at least didn’t break out into… a fist-fight or something. An admirable achievement for us Hargreeves!”

Vanya watches as most of her siblings begin to prepare for their departure.

It unsettles her, makes the corner of her mouth twitch, even if it’s to be expected. They reunited after all this time and their missing brother literally came back out of nowhere, but no-one seems to give a damn. Naturally.

By habit Vanya reaches for her bag to get herself some of her pills, to get rid of or at least dampen those burning feelings inside her chest; but logically, she finds none. _Dang it._

She takes a deep breath and looks for Five, who is whispering something to the young girl next to him.

They act quite alike, the two of them. Even if they’re somehow polar opposites, from what Vanya’s observed. They’re two sides of one coin. Yin and Yang. Whatever you wanna call it.

_(That’s how she felt her and Five were like as children. Many, many moons ago.)_

When Vanya snaps back into reality, Five is stepping into the middle of the room, catching everyone else’s attention.

“What do you guys say we meet here again tomorrow? Same time, same place.”

The silence that follows for the next moments is deafening.

“Look, I’m jet-lagged and just exhausted.”, Allison provides. “And we already did what we came here to do.”

“Yeah”, Diego sighs, “I don’t feel like coming here a second time.”

“ _Great._ So I come here after all these years, just for you—and none of you even want to talk to each other for more than a couple of hours? You said yourself that I haven’t talked enough, and I haven’t even had the chance to hear about you guys!”

Klaus chews his bottom lip, looking into empty air as if he were listening to something. “Well, I’d love to catch up with my long-lost bro, but this place is going to drive me crazy. And we’re only a family in _name,_ and not _in fact._ It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He directs his last words straight at Vanya, and although his voice carries no malice, the quote still stings.

“This place just sucks.”, Diego states, words tinged with finality.

Five grits his teeth, looking at the door.

“Wait, okay-“, Vanya suddenly raises her voice out of impulse, “How about you all come to my flat tomorrow? You know the address, right? Or I can give it to you…”

She looks around with a hopeful expression.

“I don’t know, sis. If I have time I’ll come by, alright?” Allison gives her a pitiful look.

The rest gives mumbled, similar replies and goes about their way.

It’s the same as always.

Once they’re gone, Five approaches her with tired eyes.

“So we’ll grab something to eat then?”

The laugh Vanya responds with is just as lacking in energy.

“Yes. Let’s go, just you two and I.”

And something, hidden beneath Vanya’s disappointment over the day, comes alive; something small but powerful, something that hopes that she at least has the chance to get her best friend back.

The three of them head out together in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff this was a hard one to write.
> 
> Took me some time to decide on a POV and all. I hope to soon get into both action/story and feelings/family-time. Right now there's a lot of building up that I hope won't feel too rushed.
> 
> Thank you for comments and kudos! Have a nice weekend :)


	7. what do i do, what do we do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> communication is hard

They went and got a booth at Griddy’s of all places.

Nostalgia haunts Five within the old tables and benches and the familiar smell of sickeningly sweet donuts. It is another invisible wound on top of the achingly weird reunion with his family.

He hadn’t expected for them to go for a group-hug and cry tears of joy at the sight of him, but he also hadn’t expected for it all to be this… cold.

Don’t get him wrong, he is not at all a feely, touchy person.

But the way things unfolded makes it really hard for Five to just break the news to them.

How do you go and tell everyone the world is going to end in just a bit more than a month? Especially when no-one is listening or even trying to believe you?

He gets that they’re suspicious and tired and overwhelmed. He really does.

But the situation itself is already complicated enough and now Five has to figure out how to save humanity whilst trying to get his siblings to learn how to trust each other again—two things that might surprisingly go hand in hand.

The only one next to Lila who still seems to find it in her heart to hear Five out is Vanya, who is currently sitting on the bench across from him.

She has tied her hair back and is slowly working her way through the huge plate of pancakes she offered to share with Lila; Five himself decided to stick with more coffee and a plain croissant.

“I hope the others come tomorrow.”, she all but whispers after a while, using her fork to play around with the blueberries and whipped cream on the dish.

“Didn’t sound like they would.”, Lila comments with a shrug, still stuffing her face with delight.

Five turns towards the window, not looking at anything in particular. “They should, though. I have a lot to tell them.”

“You can tell me.”

When he eyes Vanya, her face is flushed with nervousness.

“I might. But telling all of you at once is much more convenient. There’s no need to walk you through all of it individually.”

For some reason he cannot comprehend, the woman looks slightly hurt.

Under the table, Lila kicks his ankle. “Don’t worry, Vanya. He never tells me anything either.”

Five exhales. “I have my reasons.”

His sister puts her fork and knife down and straightens up. Something in her energy suddenly changes, a shadow creeping up on her face.

“You know, Lila, he’s always been like that. All secretive. It’s like none of us are worthy of his knowledge.”

Her jaw tenses as she stares directly at him. “And _you_ can’t blame people for no longer having waited up for you, Five. I’m not defending anyone here—but you really can’t expect us to just react as we would’ve years ago.”

“I never said nor expected anything like that. But when it’s something… something as vital as the End of the World, I’d like for you all to be patient! To pay attention! But I didn’t even get to tell you anything as far as that. I can’t believe how useless this all is…”

Vanya shakes her head dismissively. “What now? The End? You almost sound like dad, Five! There’s no missions, no superheroes; and I am tired of you all trying to act like our father actually trained you for a reason. _It’s delusional._ ”

Lila puts one hand on Five’s shoulder and reaches out to Vanya with her other. “Maybe you should both calm down. Stop before this escalates.”

Both adults don’t react to her, their glares just intensify.

“Save it, V. I already know your whole point of view.”

The woman laughs sharply, and it almost seems as though the ground vibrates with her voice. “Oh yeah? How would you know? _You left us all_.”

Five furrows his eyebrows at that. “I did, I know. _But I also read your book_.”

In the span of a second, Vanya’s attitude deflates to a single look of guilt and regret. “You did?”

“Not too long ago. Skimmed through it when we got it delivered to the library I work at.”

Just like that, she seems to have reverted back to her colorless and unconfident self.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Vanya. Your writing’s good and some of the shit you said we deserved.”

Vanya rubs her face. “But I shouldn’t have published that.”

The man gives her an enigmatic, barely visible smile. “You really shouldn’t have.”

Her eyes glint in the artificial light of the restaurant. “We were all already living separates lives. Allison in Hollywood, Luther in the academy or wherever Reginald sent him. And I’d be alone in my own flat. But sometimes Klaus and Diego would still visit me and we’d just… we’d pretend everything was fine. Of course, it wasn’t.”

She wipes at her teary eyes with a small apology.

“Ugh, I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately. Anyway, once Klaus went deeper into his hole of addiction, he stopped showing up. And seeing Diego became rarer as well; sometimes he’d just call to tell me a bit about life at the police academy and then he'd hang up before I could say a word. I… I was alone, and things were frustrating. So I just wrote the biography—little did naïve me know that afterwards I’d be the most lonely I’ve ever been.”

For a moment there are no words spoken.

“I’ll fix it”, is all Five replies then, drily as ever.

She huffs a wet laugh.

“We’re a family. We’re siblings. It’s the only good thing that ever came out of the Umbrella Academy. And I’m here to make things right.”

Vanya takes a sip of the soda she’d ordered. “Is… is it really serious? This mission? Is it the _End_?”

Five seems to chew at his words for a while. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, I promise. Right now I’m glad to spend time with my sister.”

Said sister tears up again and looks away in a shy demeanor.

“I’m glad, too. And I’m happy to get to know you, Lila. Oh God, I hope I’m not making a horrible impression.”

The younger girl gives her and Five a big, toothy grin.

* * *

The next day the three of them pace around Vanya’s flat, waiting for the others to show up.

Lila is looking around curiously, inspecting her books and her violin in particular She throws in random questions from time to time, in hopes for Vanya to share an anecdote of hers.

Meanwhile Five’s thoughts are racing, too fast for even his brain to follow.

He has to do this carefully, every single detail of it. It would be easier if he had a specific plan and a need for a specific outcome—but all he knows is that he wants to prevent the end of life on this planet.

Vanya plumps down on her couch and impatiently rubs her hands along her thighs. “Five, I don’t think they’ll come.”

“But they have to! They just… they have to. We'll wait.”

Out of the blue, Lila leans out the window and then shouts back at them. “I think I can see… Diego? Grumpy Walmart Batman with a scar on the side of his head.”

“Sure sounds like him.”, Vanya says amusedly.

It is him, and he’s also dragging Klaus by the arm. Not ten minutes later Allison rings the bell and at last Luther joins the group.

They all have reluctant expressions on their faces, but Five is determined to not let anyone leave.

That’s his plan: they all need to stick together.

“So, _Brüderchen,_ share your wise words with us.”, Klaus speaks first, slurring his words slightly. There’s a faint smell of alcohol surrounding him, but Five will have to take care of that later.

“You make it sound like he’s a cult leader.”, Diego mumbles under his breath. They all still hear it.

Allison rolls her eyes. “If anyone in here started a cult it would be Klaus himself. Now let Five talk so we can get this over with.”

“Right. Thank you, Allison. The reason I’ve asked you to come here is… well, most of all because we are siblings. We grew up together. And also—the world is ending on the Fifth of May, so maybe we should take care of that, too.”

There’s a metaphorical response of crickets singing, for what feels like an infinity.

Slowly but surely Five is thinking that this might not have been the best approach. At least the sudden change in air doesn’t feel like a good sign.

“You’re kidding, right?”, Luther finally questions.

“Nope.”

“But… but how do you even know? Where does this come from?” Allison’s eyes widen as she talks.

Five looks around helplessly.

Right. Off to a good start.

Suddenly, Lila grabs his hand. When he exchanges a glance with her, his heartbeat and thoughts slow down by a small but significant amount. It reminds him of the many times she pulled him back to earth when he spaced out, over the years.

“I think you should tell us everything, Five.”, she whispers only for him to hear.

The word _everything_ echoes in his ears.

Tell them everything, huh?

He’s never done that before _._

(But maybe it’s time.)

_“When I was thirteen years old, I jumped into the apocalypse.”_

All eyes turn to him again. It’s as quiet as the falling of snow or the blooming of a flower.

“I time-travelled forward and I ended up in a world, where everything was in ruins. Everyone was dead, but me. All on fire, all in ashes. I could not find the reason why; all I could find out was that it ended on the Fifth of May. Doomsday.”

Allison covers her mouth in subtle shock and Vanya sinks further into her cushions.

Lila is still holding Five’s hand, and she squeezes it slightly.

“I spent about three years there, always surviving by the skin of my teeth. I didn’t have the powers nor the right calculations to get back here; the only thing that kept me alive was the hope to see my family again. To see _you_. And then I got recruited by the Commission, a time-travelling agency. I worked there and signed a contract to stay for five years, as it was the only fucking chance for me to escape the awful wasteland I was living in. On my last work-related mission, I found Lila, and I took her with me to raise her.”

He bites the inside of his cheek and ponders about what to say next.

Vanya shifts in her position. “What’d you do at the… Commission?”

“The company’s purpose is to keep the timeline safe—to preserve it. Which means eliminating and ensuring certain events. To put it simple; I was trained to be an assassin. I killed people, professionally, to make sure things play out as they are supposed to. If that scares you guys, I understand—but…, but I did it for a reason.”

Five hopes they cannot see the way his knees buckle.

“No, Five.” It’s Diego replying in a hushed voice, “You didn’t have a choice, did you? It was the only option.”

“The only good thing about the Commission was that I had access to some off-limit information. Or well, I got myself access. Couldn’t find out too much, but they had files about Doomsday. And what I then additionally got to know, is that it has something to do with _us._ ”

Luther grimaces. “With us? Us Hargreeves?”

Five nods grimly. “Yes. Us Hargreeves children. One or several of us cause the apocalypse. And I take it that it’s power-related.”

Klaus purses his lips. “You think? So what, I cause the apocalypse by seeing ghosts? Diego ends all human life by throwing stuff?”

“I don’t know, okay? But I know that when I disappeared, it happened: the apocalypse took place—so now that I’m with you, we can make sure it’s all in control. And believe me, I know that the smallest actions can change anything. So if we just stick together, and keep our powers at bay, or make sure we know exactly what we’re capable of…”

Diego creases his forehead. “You want us to train again?”

Five hums in a low voice. “Maybe. Or something similar. We’ll figure it out, all of us.”

“I mean, we already know it’s not me, right?”, Vanya suggests slowly, “I don’t have powers.”

“What about that crazy fan you have though?”, Diego cuts in, “The one who was harassing people on the streets? You do have some parts in stuff.”

They all turn to him in confusion and Vanya just looks at her brother, unblinking.

“Oookay, I’m guessing I was the only one aware of that?”

Five and Lila go to sit down on the couch as well. “Well, that’s one more reason we should all collectively look out for each other. So maybe we could just try and stay close?”

Luther squirms in his seat. “I mean… we could try living together for a bit… just for some weeks?”

They all look at each other, unsure of what to say.

Perhaps it is the best idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have the (hopefully) last chapter of building up the story.  
> Next one should include a revelation and some bonding.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you like it :)


	8. and i'll do just as i was never taught

Lila has been beaming the whole day, watching everyone drag in bags and prepare their rooms.

They’ve all come to the mutual decision to live together at the Academy, just for the next month. Even Vanya and Diego, who’d technically have their own places to sleep already, agreed to stay full-time.

This is Lila’s chance. She knows it.

What “ _chance_ ” is unclear—but something inside her just feels that this is going to upend her whole life; turn it around by 180°.

For herself, she chooses the next empty room that is closest to where all the others reside. Technically, she could have a whole wing to herself (since the building is _massive_ ), but Lila would rather sleep in some kind of storeroom closet than be too separated from her adoptive father.

The notion that he’s just a few steps away is all she needs to feel at home.

While the others still unpack and plan out their living situation, the girl gets to prepare dinner with Grace.

She watches the woman in awe as she perfects everything in swift motions, without ever making a sour expression or having a hair fall in her face. Lila is aware that it’d be weird for a highly-advanced android to be flawed in her working, still she’s fascinated to be observing her.

When they fall into a short domestic routine of Lila taste-testing and cutting up vegetables here and there, while Grace takes care of the rest, she wonders what it would’ve been like, if she had had a mother. She barely remembers her biological one.

It’s not at all like she was lacking anything in terms of parental love.

Five wasn’t the average dad, that’s for sure, but they also cooked together after getting the groceries and watched TV to gag at stupid rom-coms and they went on trips together regularly.

She’d be brainless to not be grateful for him.

But there’s still something different about standing next to this woman, her kind of official grandmother, and something different about suddenly having two aunts and three uncles—as well as an ape grandpa, as Lila would title Pogo in her mind.

They’d all be a big family now, right?

Lila can’t help but smile to herself, as she sets the table for so many people instead of just two.

* * *

“You’re helping mom?”

Diego is the first one to be ready and join them in the kitchen.

Lila nods at him eagerly. “She was certain that you guys need dessert and freshly-pressed lemonade as well though, so it might still take a while.”

Behind her, Grace hums a cheery tune.

Diego smiles softly and leans against the counter. “Sounds good. And, you happy to move in with us?”

“I am, really. I can’t believe I have such a big family now! I mean, if I can call you that…“

She looks towards the door, where all the others are approaching.

“Also, I’d love to train with you guys. Bet I could teach you some new things.”

Diego chuckles at that. “You’re a feisty one, no? Five must’ve rubbed off on you.”

The girl shrugs. “I like to believe I just came out of the womb like that.”

“Is dinner ready soon?”, a tired-looking Allison calls from the door-frame.

Grace turns around with a twirl of her skirt. Again, Lila can’t help but notice how majestic she looks.

“I’m nearly done, children. It’ll be ready the second the clock chimes. But you can sit down already, have a nice chit-chat or something.”

They all go gather around the grand table, as suggested.

In the room, there’s no sound but the ticking of the tall grandfather clock.

“It feels so weird to be doing this again. I almost feel like I shouldn’t be talking, since it’s dinnertime.”, Vanya voices.

The others nod solemnly.

“It’s like the old man’s gonna walk in any second and scold us for not standing neatly behind our chairs.”, Klaus adds.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Luther gives them all a timid look. “Dad wasn’t that bad, I mean.”

Allison crosses her arms over her chest and sighs. “Maybe not to you, but I’d rather not talk about him ever again, unless strictly necessary.”

“I’m just saying! I wouldn’t associate anything bad with this table. No, I’m actually really glad to eat here again. Much better than living on small food-rations up on the moon.”

Lila’s head jerks up at that. “You went to space?”

For some reason the others don’t seem to find it as exciting as she does. Diego, especially, just turns his head in annoyance. “Ask him about it sometime later. I don’t really wanna hear any of that shit.”

His brother looks at him incredulously. “You’re just jealous Dad never intended for you to do important stuff.”

Oh God. Lila can already tell this was a bad turn of conversation.

Diego looks at the other with fire in his eyes and ice in his words. “Don’t you dare even go there. You think you’re the great Number One, when really our father just put you as far away from himself as he could!”

Both men stand up from their chairs and Diego even pulls out a knife, with a threatening glare.

Suddenly, Allison slams her hands on the table. “ _I heard a rumour you two stopped fighting and just sat down._ ”

And so the two did, no sign of resistance.

Lila’s eyes widen in amazement as she gapes at the woman. _Her powers._

“You did that?!”, she asks her aunt with the joy of a small child.

The woman grins and flips her hair dramatically. “It’s my brand.”

She then breaks out into a soft giggle.

“Enjoy the show?”, Diego murmurs as he sulks.

Lila actually beams at him and nods, even though she fully well knows he didn’t intend for it to be a real question.

Giddily, she turns to Five and gently shakes his shoulder. “I wanna do it, too!”

From the other end of the table Luther waves her off. “Five, didn’t you explain it to her?”

“The power is specific to Allison, Lila”, the man then tells her, “It’s not like a spell you can use or whatever. Like my jumping; only she can use rumours.”

“You’d have to be _special_ to do it. But you’re more like Vanya, you know?”, Luther comments insensitively and Lila watches as the small woman intently stares at her still empty plate, shrinking at the mention.

Lila pouts and slouches back in her chair. Something similar to anger wells up in her chest and it makes her pulse thrum through her veins like a restless drumming.

Not special, huh?

“Well, _I_ heard a rumour that you just _shut up_.”

The words ring loud and clear through the hall.

Lila immediately sighs over her impulsiveness and waits for someone to correct her use of language, when Luther unexpectedly starts to groan and shift in his seat.

When she looks up at him, his face is twisting in the weirdest way, and he’s pulling at his cheeks and mouth, as if trying to get his lips to part. They look almost… glued, or sewn together.

The man reaches out to Allison in panic, slapping her arm to get her attention.

But just like all others, she just watches him in shock. “Luther, I- I didn’t rumour you!”

“Lila!” Five calls for her, his grey eyes sharp as ever.

Lila catches her breath. “ _I heard a rumour you could talk again!_ ”

Luther’s mouth bursts open in a shout and he stops hyperventilating as Allison rubs small circles along his back.

Klaus puts a hand on each side of his face and then slides them up through his curls.

“What the fuck just happened?”

* * *

When Grace bustles in to serve dinner, a weird ambience has settled over the Hargreeves siblings. Most of them just move their food around their plates, suddenly devoid of any prior appetite.

“Lila”, Five then suddenly speaks up, “Did you- did you _know_ you could do that?”

The girl fidgets with the napkin she’s picked up.

“No? Yes? I don’t know?”

Vanya musters her siblings confusedly. “So what? We have two people with the same power now?”

Diego scratches his head. “And why _her_? Have there been more of us all this time? I mean, I thought she’s not your biological child, man.”

Five takes a lengthy sip of his drink, as his face twitches with thought.

“I don’t think it’s that—I don’t think they just randomly share the same power.”

Lila draws in a deep breath, trying to get him to look at her, but he just stays staring at the table.

“Lila was born on the exact same day as all of us. That might be why she has powers—she was part of those mysterious births on the 1st of October, too.”

_Too?_

_Is that why Five had always refused to tell her his birthday?_

_Because it had been the same date all this time?_

Luther stops chewing on his mouth-full of beef. “But she’s younger than us?”

“No shit, Sherlock. But as you might know I have the power to time-travel.”

Five fumbles with the stainless, unwrinkled tablecloth. “I basically made her skip some years, so now she’s much younger.”

Lila doesn’t know how to stomach such news. There had been a lot of that the past two days already.

So, she pushes back her plate by a bit—now quite certain she’d not be eating much more. She feels like she’s burning up inside.

Still not catching Five’s eye, she asks: “So what is my power, if it’s not rumours?”

“Well, what were you thinking of when you rumoured Luther?”

Lila tries to recall and glimpses at Allison. “I just… I felt frustrated and I acted on impulse. So basically, I just thought I’d do the same as she did.”

Five catches her off-guard by loudly pushing himself up from the table. The cutlery clinks.

“You stand up, too, Lila.”

Hesitantly she does so.

Then the man clenches his fists and in a swirl of ephemeral blue he jumps from one side of the table to the other.

There’s barely a few metres between them and everyone’s eyes rest on the girl as Five extends his hand towards her.

“Come here.”, he says.

She knows exactly that he’s not asking her to walk.

_There it goes then._

Lila straightens her dress and further pushes back her chair to make sure she doesn’t accidentally knock it over. Closing her eyes, she focuses on finding the surge of emotion she had felt moments before. This freeing, distinct sense of force inside her.

Then she thinks back to Five’s jump. Behind her tightly shut eyelids there’s a bright sensation of that same shade of blue.

She just needs to copy what he did, right?

All that is required is for her to _adapt_ —to change her colours to match his, just like a chameleon.

In a flash, Lila finds herself stumbling into Five’s arms. She feels as though her guts have been rearranged and her breathing comes in irregular bouts, but her father holds and steadies her as the world slowly stop spinning.

When her eyesight adjusts again and her surroundings stop being blurred and covered by dark spots in her vision, she finally comes eye to eye with Five.

He’s smiling in the most unreadable way, as typical for him.

“I think your ability is to copy powers.”

Huh.

Well that’s just great, isn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luther: you can't do it, you're not special!!  
> Lila: haha powers go brr
> 
> Here we have it ;)
> 
> Planned for next chapter: three of the siblings get to finally talk of all the feelings they've buried.


	9. talking, as if we're swimming with closed eyes

To say that Allison has had a rough time would be quite the understatement.

Here she is, trying to get her damned (soon to be ex-)husband to answer her calls, impatiently twirling the phone’s cable around her finger, so tightly it might cut the blood-circulation off. She hasn’t heard her daughter’s sweet voice since… since _the incident_ , and it is driving her crazy, to say the least. It’s depriving her of any comfort. 

And right now she's even more in need of something to be soothing than usual.

She’s trapped between having to be at the Academy again, the place she had dreaded for so long, and finding a way to get custody of her child. The latter is pretty much a hopeless case already, but she should at least be allowed to see her once in a while. To hear her, to hold her.

_A girl needs her mother_ , Allison knows.

She can’t end up being the same neglective and absent parent that her father once was, even if this situation was vastly different from her own childhood. No, she’s determined to do better.

Even if she has to crawl and bite her way through it. 

The Hargreeves are known to be stubborn, after all.

But on the topic of doing better—the acclaimed actress at least has a chance to re-strengthen her ties to her family now. Or maybe “strengthen” is a bit of a too strong word: but she might be able to leave this house in a month without the weight on her conscience of all her siblings hating each other.

It is not entirely her fault, of course, that things had gone so awry over the times. (Often, she even has trouble admitting any of her wrongs.) It is true that Allison might’ve done some mean shit over the years, but at least she didn’t write a tell-all book on everyone’s lives.

Right. At least she left her trauma to be private.

After the woman fails to receive anyone picking up on the other line of the call, for the sixth time in two days, she decides to go back to her room.

It actually doesn’t feel as weird as expected, to be staying in the same place again. Same bed, same sheets. Same old feather-boas and cheap lip-gloss surrounded by old posters and dresses.

No matter how much Reginald once tried to oppress any uniqueness except for their powers; he couldn’t stop them from expressing any individuality at all.

They should probably also replace all the academy photos and training related décor with something more personal, now that _they’re here_ and _he’s gone_.

Perhaps they can erase the traces of his presence and cover them with theirs.

* * *

To Allison’s surprise, her room is not empty.

Vanya is sitting on her bed; dressed in dark, dimmed colours in contrast to the room’s scheme, which makes her stick out like a sore thumb the moment Allison walks in. She looks up at her with slightly sunken, but friendly eyes.

“Are you looking for something?”

“I was looking for you, actually. I hope you don’t mind me being in here.”

Allison shakes her head. “Of course not. What’d you need?”

Her sister scratches her wrists—an old habit of boredom, or perhaps anxiety. “Just wanted to talk to my only sister, I guess. Seems a bit stupid now that I think about it…”

She’s looking around the room again, avoiding eye-contact as ever so often. To Allison it has always been irritating, the way her sister seems to block out certain things. It’s also obvious in her book that she’s chosen to ignore specific aspects of their lives. Or perhaps she’s just too caught up in her own, small world to even notice.

But Allison can learn to live with that, right?

In the few therapy sessions she’s had over the years, also to deal with the constant stress of literally being one of the most famous people on the planet, she’s been told to accept that all her siblings show their trauma in different patterns.

It is just very, very difficult when they all seem to behave in the most nerve-wracking way possible.

When Vanya clears her throat to get her attention again, Allison notices she’s drifted off.

She goes to sit down next to her sister and gives her a small smile. “I’d be happy to catch up with you, Vanya. How have you been?”

“Oh. Uhm… good, I suppose. If we ignore Five’s news of the impending doom we need to prevent? I mean, I appreciate his return, however dramatic and confusing this all is.”

They both chuckle. “Yeah, Five. Feels nice to have him back.”

“Definitely”, Vanya muses, “For years I thought he just didn’t _want_ to come back to us. That he left me. It’s just relieving to know he had no choice, to be honest.”

“He didn’t only leave _you_. Surprisingly you’re not the only victim in every situation.” A third voice suddenly joins in.

Diego is standing by the door, a brooding expression carved onto his face.

Allison’s eyebrows twist together into a frown. “Where’d you come from, Mister I-lurk-in-the-dark?”

The man scoffs and closes the door behind him. “I was just roaming around the halls. The others are all busy: Five’s still trying to figure out further details of Lila’s powers. Excuse me for thinking I could hang out with some of you.”

Vanya shifts a bit on the bed, her posture closed off. “So you thought you’d come in here to attack me?”

Diego gives her a belittling grin. “Poor you. I can’t imagine how small, _ordinary_ Vanya must feel after being the _only one_ who managed to escape the abuse of our father. We really shouldn’t hold you accountable for anything, you tortured soul!”

Allison raises her hands towards her face. “Oh please, I can’t listen to you anymore. Can we not be civil for once? Have you never had a healthy human interaction in your life?”

Her brother turns to her with gall in his tone. “I’m not the one going through a public divorce, Ally. Don’t talk to me about relationships.”

Vanya’s hand briefly strokes her shoulder. “Oh gosh, I didn’t know that...”

“Yeah, right. Otherwise you’d have written about it in my book-chapter, _hm_?”

The moment the sourly-placed words leave her mouth, Allison regrets them dearly. Almost like all of the rumours she’s uttered, now forever hanging in the air, setting her guilt ablaze.

But defying her expectations, Vanya doesn’t stammer hopeless apologies.

She does look hurt, but doesn't run or give her those big, sad eyes; instead she just seems fed up.

“I know that the book was a shitty move, okay?! But you all can stop acting like I don’t have the right to complain, like dad didn’t mistreat me; it’s the exact reason I wrote it in the first place. None of you know how to listen properly and none of us know how to be a family. It’s evident, we never were siblings anyway!”

“Damnit Vanya! I lost my place at the police academy over this stupid assemblance of pages you whined on for money.”

Allison watches as her sister gives Diego a distant but confident look, quite unlike the Vanya she normally witnesses.

“I know, and I cannot mend those broken pieces. But… but I want us to try and be a _real_ family for once. What I wrote in the book I cannot take back, but let me do my best _now_ , for fuck’s sake. Dad kept me away from you all our childhood, I cannot bear to be away from you now. Please just let me be your sister.”

Diego sits down on the floor, facing the small window. The early afternoon sun meets his face as he takes a deep breath and releases his knuckles from turning white.

“I’m not here to forgive you, you know? But we should try living together peacefully, or whatever these ‘pseudo-family-advice-counselors’ always ramble about. According to what Five said yesterday, there’s no other option anyway. And... I’m sorry about your situation, Allison.”

She wipes away a thin film of tears, having to think of Claire once more. Her heart aches terribly.

“I’d love if after all this my daughter could finally have an aunt and several uncles. She’d be over the moon.”

“And even a cousin!”, Vanya adds softly, but excitedly, “With Lila and her I suddenly have two nieces.”

“I hope you don’t ever dare ask me to babysit. I’d rather stab myself with my own knives.”

Allison breaks into a small fit of giggles at that. “I can already imagine you in a princess-dress, having a tea-party with Claire. From what I know of her and what I’ve seen of Lila, they’d both be taking care of _you_ , you man-child.”

She adds the last word teasingly, with no ill nature in mind.

“Seems like your daughter takes right after you, huh?”, Vanya remarks, “I clearly remember Five telling me stories about you rumouring Diego and Luther to play dress-up with you in break-time.”

Diego lowers his head onto his knees and groans. “ _Shit_. I remember, too. Lived through it first-hand, after all.”

Allison squints at her sister with a devilish grin. “Maybe I should take it out on you sometime soon. Bet you’d look lovely with some blue eyeshadow and pink lips.”

Vanya flinches just at the notion and snorts a small laugh.

For a sweet, calm while they continue talking about the few pleasant parts of their childhood, and Allison also gets to sprinkle in a bunch of cute anecdotes about her daughter.

It doesn’t take her long to realize how much she’s missed her siblings.

* * *

“And then Klaus fell asleep, still with his donut half-eaten in his mouth—he looked like a hamster storing stuff in its cheeks! And I had to rumour Luther into carrying him home, so-“

A loud knock interrupts the fun they’ve been having the past fifteen minutes.

“I’m sorry to barge in on the three of you.”, Pogo calls through the ajar door, “But there’s someone on the phone.”

Allison gets up as the mood abruptly turns somber again. “Gotta go then, Patrick must be waiting.”

“Actually, Miss Allison”, the advanced chimpanzee cuts in patiently, “It is for Master Diego.”

The siblings exchange a quick look before they all head out together.

* * *

“Who do you think it is?”, Vanya whispers.

The two have decided to give him some space and are waiting in the next room together. Allison lets her eyes wander across the different furniture throughout the parlour and sighs.

“I have no idea. But he looked concerned. Maybe something bad happened.”

“You think so? To me it seemed like he got in trouble. Not that that’s what I want for him.”

Allison plays with her hair as she leans further back into the couch they are sitting in. “But it wouldn’t be unlike him, yeah.”

When Diego gets back from his call, both women stand up.

“Somebody broke into the gym I work at. _Again_.”

Vanya’s eyes widen. “You normally live there, right?”

He nods. “I should go and take a look at it and perhaps help with the cleaning up. Luckily, I already have most of my important possessions here, but I’ll still check if they stole anything.”

“Well, can I come with you?”, Vanya asks. But they all can hear that she’s not really meaning for it to be a question.

Diego studies her face for a while, unused to their sister's newfound strong will as well. “Sure”, he then says, drawing out the word, “It’s probably safer. Could you tell the others, Allison? We’ll be quick.”

She agrees to do so and soon is left alone with the sound of the front-door closing.

Something tells her this is no good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allison!! Here she is!
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always. I'm also planning to perhaps publish a one-shot about Five and Lila celebrating Halloween--which would chronologically take place before this fic.  
> So if you're interested, you might keep an eye out :)))
> 
> Take care, stay hydrated and have a nice week.


	10. to ask of nothing and still be disappointed

„I think that’s enough for today.”

Everyone in the room breathes a sigh of relief as Five finally announces the end of training.

Klaus, especially, does not feel like staying in these rooms any longer, which throw him back to memories of physical exercise and broken bones. He just wants to lay down somewhere and never move a muscle again, a strange phantom pain cursing through his limbs.

It’s not like the past hours had been exhausting; he basically spent all of it standing there, while they all tried to figure out why Lila cannot see ghosts (to Ben’s great disappointment), but now he’s really in need of a distraction and for something to take the cold ache within his bones away.

Well, he’s always asked too much of life, hasn’t he?

“My conclusion is…”, Five adds quickly as they turn to head upstairs, “that Klaus’ powers are more of a state of being to him. Meanwhile you, Lila, can only copy active uses of power.”

Klaus watches as his brother raises his own hand and examines it in deep thought, as if reading the information off his palm. “So that’s why you could only use Luther’s superstrength when you witnessed him consciously use it—you need to see it in action. You wouldn’t be able to use rumours or jump through space without seeing us do it first.”

He stops as he walks, making the others turn around for him as he trails behind. “So I think Klaus’ power is different in that way. You don’t _choose_ to see ghosts, you just _do_. And that’s why Lila can’t use her powers for that. Maybe if Ben were here, she wouldn’t be able to copy him either, as the portal in his body was just an inherent part of him instead of a momentary effect.”

Klaus shoots his dead brother a look, who just shrugs and mouths: “I guess?”

Luther exchanges a quick glance with Five. “Well, what if Klaus’ powers are just weakened right now? Couldn’t that be the case, too?”

The flamboyant man exhales dramatically at the suggestion and raises his eyebrows. “You could just ask _me_ if my powers are weakened, you know? I’m right here.”

Five rolls his eyes at the interaction but then gives him a patient expression. “So? Would you say they are?”

“Nah.”

“Liar!”, Ben sulks from his corner.

“Okay, okay. Maybe. Probably. I’m not high right now though, if that tells you anything. Haven’t been in a while, _unfortunately_.”

Leaning against the wall, Five crosses his arms. “I’d hope so. I’ve also told Pogo to get rid of any alcohol in this house, to make things easier.”

In the back, Ben whistles in a cheer. _Traitor._

Klaus covers his face and groans. “Whatever. _Torture_ _me_. But if you think that we can repeat Reggie’s experiments to make me ‘summon’ ghosts, or whatever—you can shove that idea up your ass.”

He directs the last fragment of his sentence mostly at his ghost brother, who sticks his tongue out to him like a literal child.

“But maybe I could copy that!”, Lila chips in enthusiastically, “That’d be an active choice, no?”

Klaus just blows a raspberry and walks away to find a surface to plop onto and then sleep on eternally.

* * *

When he wakes up again, Ben is hovering over him, just inches away from his face.

“ _Christ on a cracker_!”

Klaus tiredly examines his surroundings to see he had fallen asleep in his father’s study of all places, upright in his old chair. Through the window he can tell that several hours must’ve passed, with how the sky has darkened slightly.

A murder of crows passes over the neighborhood.

“Time you woke up.”, Ben pouts. “Diego and Vanya left; they’re checking on his gym-appartement-thingy. Somebody broke in.”

He wanders across the room. “Luther’s in his room, Allison’s outside in the garden and Five is explaining the calculations behind his spatial jumps to Lila. Or he’s _trying_ to, I don’t know.”

Klaus moans as he shifts to place his elbows on the desk in front of him. “Man, I hate this place.”

Ben shakes his head. “Stop whining. The memories suck, but at least we’re all here together.”

The ghost then goes to kneel next to Klaus, looking up at him with his stupid, signature puppy eyes. “You knooow what could make this reunion even better though?”

Klaus lays his head on the table. He knows what’ll come next.

“If I could be part of it. That’d be perfect, Klaus.”

Ben clasps his hands together as if preparing for a prayer, sticking out his bottom lip in a childish attempt of “pretty please”. Klaus eyes him, impatient and annoyed as ever. They’d gone through this often enough.

“Dad was wrong, Ben! I cannot make you visible, even less tangible. All I can do is see you, _c’est tout.”_

Ben shoots up, clicking his tongue. “You’re just being a coward. A lazy, _selfish_ coward! You know well enough that you’ve done it before.”

Klaus slams his forehead against the table, with little force but a theatrical cry of pain. “Can’t you stop for once! I didn’t do it, I _tried_ and tired myself out immediately, just for it to barely last a hot second. What do you want me to do: summon you to let you all exchange a blink and then let you vanish into the abyss of the ghost realm again? Huh?”

“Well then you’d at least be able to prove that I am here. That you _can_ see me, and are not lying for attention!”

Klaus' face wrinkles with frustration. “Ah yeah, me and my funny jokes about being able to see my dead brother. It’d be unlikely for _The Séance_ to see a ghost, after all.”

Ben sighs and chews at the inside of his cheek. “You can’t blame them, Klaus. You pulled a lot of shit. And all of you are as functional as a machine built out of mud and sticks by a five-year-old during recess.”

“ _Ouch._ You’re part of the mess, too, idiot. And I’m not down to be the bridge between the living and the dead, _I’m_ _too_ _sexy_ _for that_.”

Ben scoffs.

“Please, Klaus. Last time you tried your system was basically clogged with substance and you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in _days._ This could work. And you can ask the others to help you!”

Klaus covers his ears. “God, I hate you so much. Out of all the ghostly cries I can hear right now, yours are the most infuriating. The minute I ever get to come anywhere near materializing you, I’ll kill you.”

His brother only stares at him, unimpressed and clearly waiting as he taps his foot.

Slowly getting up from the chair, dragging every body part like a sloth, Klaus clenches his fists and sighs. Ben steps back, closing his eyes with concentration and a victorious grin.

“What now?”, Klaus asks as nothing happens.

“Focus”, Ben whispers, “Pull at your powers. You should know best how they work.”

The man chuckles bitterly at that, but still tries once more.

_Focus. Focus. Focus._

And then, for a teensy tiny moment, his hands glow up. He looks at Ben, whose outlines seem more defined than usual: with more colour and clearer structure.

Ben laughs, seeing his own reflection in the window-glass. “See? I think it’s working.”

Klaus can immediately feel himself break out in sweat.

When he untightens his fists in exhaustion barely a minute after, Ben reverts back to his normal state.

“That’s it for now.”

Ben still smiles, a hopeful tone in his voice. “Okay. It’s already _something,_ at least.”

Klaus goes to sit down again and ruffles his own hair. His breath is slightly hitched as he stares up at his brother.

“You know, maybe there’s something helpful in the journal.”

_Lord have mercy._

“You don’t seriously expect me to read through Reginald’s entries on how much of a disappointment _Number Four_ is? Nope, nope, nope. _Fuck_ , I know I should’ve sold that thing with all the other stuff!”

“I’m just saying, Klaus! If you have the chance, you could just…”

Klaus shakes his head violently, in a clear gesture. “That thing will stay rotting in my cupboard. You’re already lucky enough you could convince me to not pawn it off. It’ll stay untouched—unless you want me to recite his gruesome theories on where these beautiful eldritch horrors of yours come from.”

He ignores Ben’s further comments as he stalks off to find one of his siblings.

At least one of them should be up to distract him.

* * *

As he enters the living room, he finds the others in a heated discussion. He attempts to turn around and sneak away again, but Luther immediately spots him.

“Klaus! Good thing you’re here, we need you to vote, too.”

“Vote?”

Five massages his forehead in a tired motion. “Luther’s going crazy over mom.”

“She’s been a bit off this whole time.”, Allison further explains, “But now Luther found her pouring burning hot water just right on her hand when making tea—and she’s just… she’s out of it.”

Klaus glances towards the seat in the corner, where Grace is sitting and staring off in the air. She looks cheerful as always, but even from afar Klaus can spot damage on her artificial skin, presumably from the burns.

She doesn’t seem to be aware.

“So _I_ say”, Luther announces in his booming, leadership voice, “That we better turn her off, before she… accidentally poisons us or something. Maybe that’s even what happened to dad! Yeah, maybe she killed him!”

“Calm down, man”, Klaus mumbles, “I thought there was an autopsy and all.”

“But maybe it wasn’t as natural as it seemed. Heart attack can mean a lot!”

Five paces across the room. “So it’s a mass conspiracy now? We cannot just take down Grace, especially when we could just try to fix her, you big-headed idiot!”

“Also, we should wait for Diego and Vanya.”, Allison argues.

Speaking of the devil, the two missing siblings enter the scene.

“What’s going on?”, Vanya immediately asks, taking off her jacket. The tension in the air is clear as day.

The others explain the dilemma again. To no-one’s surprise, Diego’s face immediately reddens with anger.

“What kind of stupid idea is that? Shutting mom down? Are you out of your mind, Luther?! She’s more than just a machine to flick on and off!”

The other man raises his arms in defense. “I’m trying to protect us here! None of you have ever understood that!”

“Let’s vote then”, Lila suddenly throws in coldly, almost forgotten in the jumble of arguing adults.

Allison nods. “All in favor of keeping mom, raise your hands.”

Everyone but Luther votes, who storms out of the room with a glare. Klaus watches him with a raised eyebrow as Allison follows in a hurry, probably to calm him down at least a bit.

Five looks around the room before heading out. “I’ll ask Pogo to help me examine her hardware. I’m sure we’ll find a solution to this.”

Hesitating, Klaus walks over to Diego, who’s gone to sit down next to their mother. Vanya’s standing nearby as well, just watching.

“How about you two?”, Klaus inquires with a yawn, "What happened at the gym? Everything alright?”

The two siblings share a mysterious look.

_“That’s a good question.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I have a feeling this one is kinda boring, so I'm already working on the next one to get the story going.
> 
> <3


	11. v for vendetta

When Diego and his sister arrive at the gym, the damage is already visible from outside of the building.

It’s clear that this time things are more serious—the door was forced open violently and inside one can barely make out what the remnants of furniture originally were.

The two navigate through the rubble, inspecting things shallowly and trying not to step on anything. When Diego pushes open the already unlocked door to the boiler room he usually stays at, Vanya gasps audibly.

Somebody has spray-painted a message on the wall, in messy, red letters.

_Show yourself, V._

_Run!_

Vanya looks at Diego with widened eyes, jaw trembling as she tries (and fails) to form words.

The man steps closer towards the writing. The paint has long dried and barely comes off at the touch. Checking his knives and pulling one out for safety’s sake, he walks past his sister back to the normal gym area again.

“Pretty sure this is some personal business now, and not just some brainless robbers. _Shit,_ I’ll have to think about what to tell Al.”

“Do you… do you have a suspicion? Do you know what it all means?”, Vanya asks, catching up to him.

“Maybe it’s that damned freak that Patch was talking about. That asshole came here as well!”

“Wh-… You mean the stalker guy?”

Diego stares at her, his expression tense. “It says ‘V’, doesn’t it? He’s probably after you, and _damnit_ he’s going for serious attempts here. The whole place is in chaos.”

They both look at the debris around them once more. Vanya pulls at the fabric of her sleeves in thought, so harshly that Diego thinks she might rip it unintentionally.

“Why would anyone come for me?”

He has no answer for her.

Furrowing his eyebrows, something catches Diego’s eye. It’s a small, ripped paper, buried beneath dirt and wreckage.

Carefully, he picks it up.

_ Eliminate subjects. _

_ No need to keep others alive, except for TB1. _

_ Caution: Wait for Event #7 first _ .

After Vanya reads it over his shoulder, she mirrors his grim expression.

“We’re in fucking trouble.”, she says under her breath, looking around the room with sudden wariness.

Diego nods, lips tightly pressed together.

“We should check around quickly, just one last time, and then bail as soon as possible.”

“Is it safe to go back?”, his sister voices with concern, “Or are we just gonna lead them to the Academy?”

He grumbles and scratches his cheek. “We have no other choice. And I’m pretty sure that if they know who we are, they know about the mansion as well.”

With attentive eyes they scan through the building a final time before they drive off.

* * *

_“That’s a good question.”_

Klaus observes them confusedly as Diego and Vanya communicate through fugitive, shared looks.

“We should call another family meeting”, Vanya then suggests.

Klaus responds with a quick hum. “Doesn’t look like fate is with you there, _Schwesterchen._ Luther’s probs crying like a baby into Allison’s shoulder right now, whilst Pogo and Five operate on our dear mother like mad scientists. Guessing Lila is watching and furiously scribbling down notes. Macabre kid, I’ve gathered.”

The man wraps his arms around himself and does a wobbly pirouette. “I suppose it’s just me you’re left with.” He shoots a weird look towards empty air. “And some ugly, ugly ghosts. Truly hideous. You’re lucky you can’t see ‘em.”

Diego shuts his eyes impatiently. “ _Great_.”

“We’ll wait then.” Vanya demands in a whisper.

“Yeah let’s wait for the serial killer to show up and gift us with the surprising present of _death_ , Vanya!”

“Sounds good.”, Klaus laughs. Diego’s glare shuts him up within a second.

“Okay, I’m thinking this is serious? Serial killer does sound serious enough for a family meeting, I guess. You two have fun drumming everyone together for the emergency.”

Vanya lowers her head, hair hanging into her face. “We don’t know if it’s that urgent.”

Diego grits his teeth.

“I’m pretty sure it is. _Fuck_ _it_ , we’ll go tell Five at least. Luther and Allison can wait.”

* * *

Five is visibly overwhelmed by Grace’s programming.

“Even with Pogo’s help, it is quite a challenge to envision how her system works.”, he explains to Lila in a murmured slur of speech, right as the others walk in.

Rolling down his sleeves again and putting away the tools, he gets up. “You guys need something?”

Diego hands him the small piece of paper they found at the gym. Something akin to familiarity strikes Five’s face as he fiddles with it between his slim fingers. His grey eyes look dull as ash as they meet everyone else’s.

“Where’d you get this from?”

“Found it at the gym, beneath all the rubble. The intruder, or intruder _s_ , also left a message on the wall.”, Diego replies.

“ _Show yourself, V. Run_!”, Vanya adds for him, her words tinged with a cold type of anger.

Five pinches the bridge of his nose. “I knew this would come.”

“What’s happening?”, Lila asks.

The man looks at her with soft, worrying eyes. “We need to make sure to keep each other safe now. The Commission doesn’t play. I know that.”

Diego’s jaw twitches. “Commission? That sick place you worked for?”

Five gives a noise as to say “That’s right.” and carefully folds the paper he’s still holding, to then stuff it in his pocket.

“They are probably sending assassins after us. I don’t know who and how many and not even when they’ll arrive—we can’t know if this mentioned Event Number 7 has taken place already—but we need to be careful.”

Klaus rubs his eyes. “Well, wake me up when it’s over.”

Vanya steps forward, grabbing Five by the arm. “Why is this happening? What reason do they have to kill us?”

Diego straightens up as well. “Yeah, the fuck did _we_ do?”

Their brother seems to consider the question for quite a while.

“As I said: The Commission’s goal is to keep the timeline intact. Some of us must be causing a disturbance, which is actually not surprising.”

He narrows his eyes. “I’m pretty sure my idea to prevent the Apocalypse doesn’t align well with them. It is quite the key moment. That might very well be it, I’d say.”

“Well that sucks.”, Klaus remarks. Lila hums in agreement.

“So what do we do now? We can’t just fight every assassin they have, right?”

The time-traveler runs one hand through his hair. “Good observation there, Diego. I… I guess I’ll have to pull in some long-due favors. Call up old friends. Make some deals.”

He looks at Lila, then at the others. “I’ll be careful and quick, okay? You guys talk to Allison and Luther about this, and Pogo, you’ll look after Grace. If any of you go somewhere, then _never_ alone, understood?”

They all nod.

In a blink of blue, Five is gone.

* * *

The next morning, Five has still not returned.

Everyone’s faces are streaked with a lack of sleep—it is quite hard to close one’s eyes with the expectation of a bunch of assassins shooting up the place any minute.

It is then not that much of an overreaction, that the moment Diego leaves the bathroom to be greeted with the smell of something burning, he dissolves into an adrenaline-driven puddle of panic.

He does, however, quickly find out that the source of trouble is Klaus and Lila in the kitchen, and not a massive, deadly fire.

Now that mom is unable to provide breakfast, the uncle-niece duo has taken it on themselves to be the chefs of the house.

Bad idea, really.

Lila looks up at Diego with cheeks and ears red of embarrassment the second he enters the crime-scene, nose scrunched up and forehead in creases.

“I really tried to keep it under control, I swear.”

In the back, Klaus waves one hand at the statement, using the other to flip a black, charred piece of _something_ in the pan. “It’s gonna be great, honey. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The girl huffs. “You already messed up the batter and now you’re completely scorching the poor pancakes! I don’t even know how you’re doing that!”

Diego has to smirk. The child’s antics really do resemble Five—the sassy mannerisms in particular. It’s like looking at a female version of him as a teenager.

“And what are you smiling about, Diego? We’re going to staaarve.”

She fakes fainting with a melodramatically held-up hand and flops onto one of the wooden chairs.

When Diego goes to further inspect, he realizes that the more you look, the worse it gets. There’s flour and sugar _everywhere,_ and a spill of milk across the counter. From what’s visible to the naked eye, Klaus has also decided to use… _unique_ ingredients for this special dish; that being all the kinds of juices they own, raisins, mayonnaise and… lettuce? The golden core of the massacre is whatever Klaus is currently doing, though.

The sight of the pan almost makes Diego wish the assassins would arrive right now and just put a bullet through his head.

“What the hell is that smell?”, Allison groans as she walks in, covering her nose in a hopeless attempt of shielding her senses. Luther similarly tries to wave the fumes away as he enters.

A distant shout of “What the fuck?” tells Diego that Vanya is arriving as well.

For once he is glad to have the ability to hold his breath indefinitely, as he watches the others suffer.

Allison, always the woman of solutions and de-escalations, quickly suggests: “How about we go for cereal, guys? Maybe also oatmeal or toast?”

After they all find themselves something, Vanya approaches Diego quietly.

“Hey, uhm… Would you maybe accompany me to my flat today? I can’t shake the thought that maybe there’s a message there as well—if they’re out for me, it’d make sense, right? Just to make sure…”

All Diego responds with is a small, firm nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? I might just be losing my mind :D
> 
> As always, i'd be happy about any comments and hope you have a good day.
> 
> Take care!


	12. it's a quiet and starry place (time's we're swallowed up in space)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luther. Moon. Fight.

Lately Luther has been feeling as though he is walking through a never-ending dream.

Every step feathered by a ground that isn’t real, every person a reflection of a memory.

_(He looks in the mirror and it’s his head on a foreign body._

_He looks at his siblings and their pale-skinned, tired faces look back through him._

_He looks at the sky and is surprised to see the moon and not the earth.)_

Dad is dead, _gone forever_ , and he cannot do anything about it. Though he should be able to, shouldn’t he? As the leader of the Academy, as _Number One_ , as the oldest sibling by spirit.

But it is all out of his hands, it seems.

He can’t will his superstrength to bend reality, after all. Not even Allison can use her powers to that extent.

All he is able to do is watch as everybody disobeys the rules, putting themselves in danger.

They all go their own ways, even now that they live together once more.

Diego and Vanya, a newly formed duo apparently, went out to check on their sister’s appartement. Klaus and Allison are quickly taking over groceries, making sure they at least fill up on all necessities. And Lila, Five’s kid, has decided to clutch onto Pogo as he continues fixing Grace (which Luther still deems a wrong decision, but what can he do.)

Everything feels like he’s just waltzing through a state of surreality.

He’s alone, alone, _alone_.

Back from space, but still not really here. Even though he desperately wants to be.

_"Protect your family at all costs, Luther. Always choose the lesser of two evils."_

His father’s commands still echo through his head. Endless repeating.

Without end.

* * *

He’s been digging through Reginald’s study for nearly an hour now, trying to find clues towards the cause of his death—unconvinced by the autopsy findings.

And if there's nothing on that, then at least some other valuable information. Something he can grasp and hold on to. A reminder of his place in this Academy.

But all he finds is _nothing_. Or even less than that.

He’s pretty sure he’s seen Klaus sneak around the room as well though, so he might take a look around his room after. The idiot better not be hiding stuff.

Impatiently examining the furniture further on, every cupboard already wide open, it is then that the man stumbles across the anomaly in the wooden floor pattern.

The sight of it strikes him odd, for some reason immediately sending shivers down his spine, as he peels the strange hatchway open with careful fingers. He wants to close his eyes at what it contains, wants to let it fall closed again and pretend he never saw.

Inside are all the updates and information Luther sent in his four years on the moon. Every letter, every detailed essay, every sealed sample he thought important.

All hidden down there.

_Unopened. Unread. Unneeded._

A waste of time and space.

( _No no no._

 _It can’t be, can it?_ )

Sinking in on himself and grabbing his own arms in a tight self-embrace, the man sits on the floor, unable to deal with the confrontation.

He suppresses the tears, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth and tensing his whole body.

What an idiot he is, shivering in the warmth of what is supposed to be his home—on his own and despairing to have a reason. A purpose. A sense of belonging.

( _Stupid._

 _It’s goddamn stupid._ )

“Everything okay?”

He hadn’t even noticed Lila walk in, her choppily cut black hair in a loose ponytail that droops to the side as she tilts her head.

Before he can tell her to leave and mind her own business, isolating himself, she sits down next to him on the floor, leaning against his father’s desk.

The girl isn’t as nosy as he expects her to be, though. She just looks at him calmly, ignoring everything else in the room, as if it weren’t there.

Luther lets the little package he is holding drop back to where he took it from, exhaling in a wobbly line of breath.

“I never told you about my time on the moon, did I? My four years in outer space.”

He trails off a bit, but Lila lets him and patiently waits for him to catch his path of thought again.

“Dad sent me there for a mission. I spent more or less 1460 days doing the same routine, you know? Checking on everything, writing it down. Studying every single type of data as closely as I could. And every. single. damned. day I sent dad a report. A lengthy letter, often also with a few personal words attached.”

When he looks at the girl shortly, he’s relieved to see she’s still listening intently.

“He never replied and I thought ‘ _Okay, he’s busy_ ’. Sending messages to the moon is complicated, and if it’s not strictly necessary, then I’m fine with him not bothering.”

He shakes his head with a choked up almost-laugh.

“I should’ve questioned it more. Every day I asked for better and bigger food-rations, for maybe some words about how things are on earth, or if my research is paying off so far. _Fucking_ _hell_ , he didn’t read _any_ of it!”

Digging through all his reports, he pulls a few out and tosses them across the room.

“All outer packaging, still _perfectly_ intact! He looked at _none_ of it! He sent me away from humanity for four years for _nothing_. Hours upon hours upon hours in a world so cold and quiet and… and _lonely_ , for no reason!”

Lila winces as he punches his fist into the floor, leaving a dent and making things fall off the desk with the impact.

“Listen Luther, I cannot tell you what your father intended and what his reasoning behind certain things was.”, Lila explains to him, voice as even as the surface of an untouched lake, “But it is clear he caused all of you pain. You’re allowed to admit that, you _need_ to finally admit that. He hurt your siblings. And he hurt you, too.”

Luther runs his hand across the thick fabric of his coat, thinking of the secret beneath. The hidden monstrosity.

( _Right. Dad also did this to him._

_No, dad saved his life!_

_Well, he wouldn’t have needed the saving without dad in the first place._ )

Conflicted, Luther doesn’t know what to say.

The girl sighs and gives him a small smile. “Well, you know, all of this doesn’t have to be in vain. It’s still valuable information! You could ship it off to other researchers, I’m sure they’d appreciate that.”

“Maybe this is it…”, Luther whispers, “Maybe I need to know who I am beyond who dad made me be. But how am I supposed to know? Who am I supposed to be?”

Lila winks at him. “You’re part of this family, for starters. Be a brother. Be my uncle.”

The laugh he responds with is sad, but genuine.

* * *

“Now what are you two moping around here for?”

Klaus enters the study, striking a pose by the door-frame, dramatic as ever.

Behind him, Allison follows. “You guys okay? What happened in here?”

“Yeah”, Klaus comments, “Looks like a small, local earthquake hit directly in this room.”

Luther gets up, shaking dust off his pants, and lending Lila a hand to help her stand up as well.

“I found my moon-research.”

Before the others can make any further additions or even raise their eyebrows at him, he adds: “Dad sent me up there for no reason, it seems. He never read any of my letters. Not a single one, from start to finish.”

“Luther…”, Allison puts her hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner, “God, Luther, I’m sorry, that’s… that’s horrible.”

“Damn, buddy. Welcome to the 'Dad-abused-me-and-is-a-dead-asshole club’ then. Technically you were already in it, but look at this as your official welcoming ceremony!”, Klaus jokes with harmless intention, shooing off something (or someone) in the corner, invisible to everyone else’s eyes.

“I… I need to apologize guys. I just… I defended him this whole time, when really he was a mean, old man who forced young children to go on dangerous missions. We risked our lives and didn’t even know better.”

Allison sorrowfully looks outside the window. “And one of us failed to make it through that process..”

“I’m sorry, I- Let me try and be better, okay? From now on you guys can count on me. I'll be a real brother to all of you.”

Klaus throws his arms in the air.

“Come ooon. Sounds like group-hug-time!”

They laugh and agree.

* * *

Suddenly there is a loud bang from downstairs, turning the atmosphere upside down.

Something crashes, sounding like a door being forced open.

Hurriedly breaking off their embrace, the group exchanges concerned glances, before they silently sneak out into the outer hallway—Allison first and Lila trailing behind Klaus and Luther.

“I can hear voices.”, Allison mouths back at them, accompanying it with a few communicational hand-signs they were taught as children, “Not Diego, not Vanya. Not Five.”

“Assassins?”, Klaus whispers.

“Likely.”

Luther stops them from walking on. “I’ll take Lila and hide her somewhere. You two try to stay safe. Hiding and disarming before trying to fight them!”

“I can fight! And I have powers now!”, Lila objects, but he shushes her.

“That’s good, Lila. But we’ll still keep that as our last resort. Now let’s split up.”

With a mutual nod they head in separate directions.

* * *

Hiding Lila in a closet as a last-minute solution, Luther peeks out at the hallway again.

Downstairs he can hear grunts and sounds of furniture being pushed over, as well as glass shattering. Somebody’s coming closer around the corner, he can tell.

The floorboards squeak with an almost threatening rhythm.

Taking a deep breath, Luther prepares for a fight.

The approaching assassin is wearing a mask resembling a white lion and is dressed in a black, fancy suit. He’s holding a riffle and fires the moment he spots Luther, who ducks in reflex and locks himself in the next room.

Inside he quickly checks himself for wounds, only finding a few grazes. Anticipating he then looks at the closed door, grabbing a nearby, heavy vase.

As the intruder enters, he slams it over his head, full force, making him crash on the floor. The weapon slides across the ground, out of the assassin’s grip, and Luther crushes it under his foot.

The man gets up again, too quickly for Luther’s liking, and he tries to wrestle him down once more. His grip is unnaturally strong, and even with Luther’s powers it is a challenge to keep hold of him.

They fight and scramble their way out of the room again as the lion-masked stranger head-butts Luther violently, his forehead soon covered in crimson.

Luther's vision blurs as he finally gets the presumed Commission worker into choke-hold.

“Fucking _die_ , you little bitch!”, he hisses exhaustedly.

Out of nowhere, a second stranger appears. No fancy disguise, just a grey hood pulled over his head.

Lunging at Luther he stabs him in the thigh and together the assassins push him down the staircase where he lands on his back with a pained moan.

Luther tries to open his eyes, but they are glued by a wet, warm mass and pounding with a piercing headache. As he opens his mouth again, a tiny bit of blood pools out and he coughs.

He can hear only white noise, everything loud and as if through cotton, and after what feels like multiple eternities, several hands grab his nearly fully numb body and lift him.

“ _Am I being saved?_ ”, he thinks, “ _Or am I being killed?_ ”

Before he can draw a conclusion, consciousness leaves him.

* * *

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in the infirmary.

“Hush”, Allison tells him—he cannot tell if loudly or quietly. “Don’t move. Just rest.”

His eyes widen as he sees their mom by his side. “I’ll finish stitching you up, dear. Don’t worry, you’ll feel nothing. You were very brave out there.”

( _You were very brave out there._

That’s what she’d always tell him back when they were children as well.)

“Lila? Ki-…Killers?”, he mumbles in a defeated, strained voice; eyelids heavier by the second.

“Lila is alright. Unharmed. The assassins left. You can rest now.”, Allison assures.

Luther wants to further inquire, but once more he faints.

For a while everything is just colorless static.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some action you might think; turns out I cannot write fight-scenes, so I leave you with this.
> 
> To come soon: What's Five up to? What's happening at Vanya's flat? What about the assassins?


	13. from whence does fulfillment come?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five makes discoveries.

The streets of Vienna are crowded at this time of day.

People are going about their merry way, shopping bags and refreshing drinks in their hands as they pass by the central grand cathedral.

They do not pay much attention to the strange man in weather-inappropriate clothing (that being a thick scarf and huge cobalt-colored coat) slyly making his way to the outside area of a café, motions swift and calculated to avoid bumping into any passersby.

The weather is of no typical Austrian kind, abnormally warm and sunny for the country.

A man with ashen brown hair and ominous sunglasses sits comfortably under the shade of a terrace roofing. He idly holds his cup of coffee, not drinking but just taking in the scent, as Five arrives and occupies the empty seat by his table.

“ _Hazel_.”

“ _Five_.”

An elderly waiter makes his way to the new guest, but Five waves him off with a plastered smile of politeness. He does, however, snatch the already present glass of water from the table and gulps it down in one go without a word, his parched throat finally loosing up.

“What do you want, Hargreeves?”

Grey eyes light up with flares of sunlight, a sudden resemblance of rhinestones. Five’s eyelids flutter down, framing the sleeplessness on his sharp features.

“For the world to not end in a month.”

The two exchange a look only such former colleagues are capable of.

Hazel finally takes a sip of his coffee, savouring it dearly, and then gently puts the cup down. He scans over Five’s appearance and his lips twitch in what might’ve been a smile, were the situation different and the past undone.

Were the future not currently doomed.

“You’ve grown up quite a lot. Physically, I am referring. You were already quite mature when I first worked with you.”

Five stares off into the distance, faintly taking in the music of a quartet of street-musicians. For some odd, fateful reason it seems to be the sound of a tango, gracing his ears.

“I never got to be a kid, after all. But that’s not what I’m here for—I’d like for other children on this earth to get to be kids. I’d like for my siblings to continue their adulthood, even if you can barely count them as such. I would like for the Apocalypse I once had to witness, to not. take. place.”

Hazel eyes him, leaning a bit forward in his chair. “Elaborate. Tell me what’s happening; what lead you here to me.”

He then sighs. “And for God’s sake, take off that coat before you have heat-stroke.”

Peeling off several layers of clothing like shedding a cocoon, Five begins his story.

Starting with his idea of reuniting with his siblings and thus preventing Doomsday. Continuing with the threats they are receiving. Ending with any further information he’s got, and the journey he endured to arrive here at last.

“…and well, after that, they told me that Cha-Cha would be able to tell me something. But when I finally found her in the freaking middle of the Swedish woods, where she currently resides, she told me _you_ had better ties to recent Commission business. So my last station is here…, in Vienna surprisingly.”

The man shrugs. “Once I retired early I decided to just move by the roll of a dice. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed. _Now_ tell me how to stop the Commission. I’m ready to deal my cards, Hazel—whatever it takes to assure human existence on this damned planet. Nothing more, nothing less than that, for now.”

The man takes his time replying to Five, ignoring his impatient stare and quickening breath. He shifts in his seat; movements slow like dragging on a cigar.

Five counts every second, just awaiting to be able to get back to the Academy. He prays to a God he does not worship, that his family is still safe and sound.

“Your problem here is not exactly the Commission. Not as before.” Something glints in Hazel’s eyes. “The company’s been falling apart at the seams the past year. All due to one person. _The Handler._ ”

The blood in Five’s veins boils coldly as the core of a comet.

“That can’t be. I fucking _killed_ her. I shot her, several times. Three, calculated bullets dug their way straight into her body!”, he spits in disbelief.

“I do not know the exact events behind her survival either—whether it was luck or pre-planned wit—but the company has its ways and she’s always been a resilient one. A cockroach of a woman, at that.”

Five balls his hands into fists, every single muscle pulled into a cramp. “So what’s the bitch been up to?”

Hazel adjusts his glasses.

“When she returned to her workplace after our mission in London, she was quite… _angry_ to see the changes that had occurred within the Commission in her short absence. The Board had made the decision to demote her, to put her down into one of the small positions again, and of course she got into quite the argument with _AJ Carmichael_ of all people, who had recently announced the plan to change certain events within the timeline. One of his ideas being the prevention of the Apocalypse. To let humanity live on a little longer.”

Five raises an eyebrow at the unexpected revelation, but keeps listening.

“Things fell into place, domino on domino. She killed the fish. Apparently even _ate_ him alive, as rumors state. In any case, the system unraveled and fell apart after that. I got out before it got bad, but I am in contact with some still—Herb and Dot, for example.”

“What’s it like now, exactly?”

Hazel exhales with a shake of his head.

“You can basically divide the mess into two groups. A handful of unfortunately pretty much powerless workers who are trying to keep things as they were planned shortly before; and a rebellion of mostly newbies and maniacs, following the leadership of The Handler.”

Five wrinkles his forehead in concentration. “And the rebellion is doing their best to assure things go up in flames, right?”

“Yes. They are intentionally causing sparks to make sure it all burns by May 5th at latest.”

Grinding his teeth in restless exhaustion, Five gets up from his chair.

“And what will we do now? We can’t just watch and wait for them to succeed, Hazel. Surely you have reasons to live on as well.”

His former co-worker does not respond to that sentiment; he only drinks his coffee.

“Look, I need my family _alive_ and _safe_. What do I need to do to stop this? What can else can you tell me?”

His words are soaked with determination and fury.

Hazel quickly scans across the other visitors of the café, then calls a waiter over. In a hurry he pays the bill, leaving a generous tip, and then motions for Five to follow him.

* * *

They rush through the city for a couple of minutes, taking turns left and right, and make their way to a shady looking warehouse.

It smells of grime and smoke—a smell Five can’t stand for his life—and they navigate down several rusty stairs inside the unlocked, empty building.

After Hazel leads Five through a complicated maze of rooms, dimly lit and weirdly humid, they finally arrive at their destination.

“Take this briefcase here. Just as it is set right now—don’t change the coordinates. It’ll take you to see Herb: he can give you further details, okay?”

Five just nods wordlessly, devoid of anything more to say and hoping to save time.

Hazel salutes him a goodbye.

* * *

When Five arrives at the other end of his travel, he ends up scaring the shit out of Herb (who also loudly exclaims so.)

They are in what Five recognizes as old, rarely used Commission quarters.

Once Herb calms down, the anything but tall man looks up at Five, grinning awkwardly from ear to ear as he offers him a place to sit in his small office.

“Number Five! Pleasure to meet you. Herb at your service.”

Five smiles back at him, the dark circles under his eyes disappearing for a brief moment. “I’m hoping you might already have a hunch about why I’m here, Herb.”

The worker nods speedily, straightening his jacket by smoothing over the checkered fabric. “The Hargreeves Siblings are quite known around here. Especially you, as you are a legend of a Commission worker. Truly admirable. It’s an honour to converse with you, Number Five.”

Five nods along with little interest, slouching in his seat.

“Now Herb. I take it you and your small group can help me take down The Handler?”

Jumping straight into business has always been Five’s way.

Herb gulps. “Right. About that. We might not be able to help you in terms of fighting skills and resources—but we have _knowledge_. Information that can help you.”

Five pierces him with his gaze. “Then do tell, Sir. I need to get all the fucking info I can possibly get.”

Herb jumps up and pulls open one of his many cupboards, skimming through files with nimble fingers.

“The most dangerous aspect about the situation is her following. She’s recruited mostly the fresh ones, who don’t know the gravity behind killing and affecting the timeline, and feeds them with false promises of glory and success. You know how her deals are, I take. There’s also… some very unethical things going on.”

Sitting down again, Herb dangles his feet from his chair. “Her newest and biggest addition is _The_ _Lion_. A guy who also calls himself ‘Leonard Peabody’ and has been obsessed with the Umbrella Academy for quite some time. Most recently he has been stalking your sister, Vanya. My records say he even got arrested for harassment and threats.”

“And The Handler got him on her team?”

“She must’ve seen the potential in his already existing ‘fascination’ with you. So she got him, and to speed up the process of training him, she just went with brainwashing and even worse—she injected specific DNA in him: that of multiple serial-killers. Now he’s her grand weapon, accompanied by a bunch of brainless Commission workers. Heaven knows if she’s still expanding on bettering his skills.”

Five chews his lip in thought. This is not good at all. “So if we erase that threat…”

Herb nods once more.

“Eliminating The Handler and The Lion would definitely be a big aspect in defusing the Bomb. A lot could go wrong in the workings of that, though. You know how tricky she can be. She’ll find a way to make your sibling’s powers explode anyway.”

Five’s eyes shoot up towards Herb’s. He bares his teeth in a scowling expression.

“Who exactly is it anyway? Who in my family is _The Bomb_?”

Herb’s face falls into surprise.

“Isn’t that clear?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> As always, feel free to comment anything--I am also open for critique and eventually requests.
> 
> (the title of this chapter is a Moses Sumney lyric, btw--The Luther one was from The Moon Song)


	14. inchoate nightmare; fully fledged reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions and Vanya.

Vanya practically merges with her seat during the car-ride.

The silence between her and Diego floats around their heads like a swarm of loud hornets, and she feels more on edge than ever.

It is a strange turn of emotion.

Lately she has felt more herself than ever—the past days had been filled with certainty and confidence of self for her. It sounds terrible when you combine it with the news of the Apocalypse and the many familial disputes that took place, but Vanya just _feels_.

 _Fully_.

She’s not an empty vessel anymore; she is full of force and full of color.

However, now they are heading for her appartement and Vanya is nervous, to state the least.

Suddenly she does regret not filling up on her medication, and maybe she shouldn’t have gotten involved with her adoptive siblings again: then she could’ve lived on for maybe only a month, but swimming inside the bliss of ignorance.

Unknowing, but content.

( _No_ , she shouldn’t distance herself, right?

Well, at the moment the answer to that is unclear—her certainty in an unanticipated phase of rapid disintegration.)

Diego gives her a side-glance, the eleventh time within the last five minutes.

“Do you think we’ll find something? A clue, or another message?”, he asks for the sake of finally starting a conversation.

“I hope not.”, Vanya mumbles. She isn’t sure of that notion either.

“Well I also hope that sick bastard didn’t do anything. I’m just waiting to get to stab him, in any case.”

He stops quickly in his talking to focus on traffic, then picks up again.

“You know, there has been quite a lot of crime in the area you live in.”

Vanya hums with little dedication to the topic. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. Lots of burglaries, drunk idiots at night, trouble on the streets… you get it. Perhaps not the safest place to rent a flat; hope you don’t normally run around at night.”

Vanya stares out the window on the side. “I know, I know. I’m defenseless and an easy target.”

“I don’t mean it like _that_.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“I just mean that after this is over, you could move. I mean, you must earn enough, right? The writing and the violin lessons and orchestra performances? And now we even have a fat inheritance from the old asshole. Your flat’s so small anyway.”

Rolling her eyes, she turns to him. “Aren’t you the one who’s been living in a literal boiler room?”

Diego sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah. That’s what I’m getting at. We should both move.”

Vanya gazes out at the street again.

“Are-… But you’re not asking to live together, right?”

Her brother—the literal vigilante with scars and knives and a threat behind every word—flushes red at her observation.

“M-maybe? But not to jump into this. It just was on my mind. Klaus and I did crash at yours several times before we… before we split our ways, remember? We do make a good team when it comes to it. And I just… I wanna make up for being a douchebag. A shitty sibling.”

Vanya chuckles, mouth still agape.

“To be fair, I was a shitty sibling, too. A real bitch. But we never had a good role model after all.”

Diego nods at that.

“And… and I’d love to get back at that idea sometime. When all of this dissolves, you know? I’m really happy we can finally be a family, Dee. I wonder if Five and Lila are going to stay here, too.”

Her lips twist into a tiny smile that immediately vanishes as her brother pulls over.

They’re here.

Her appartement complex stares down at her like a grand villain in a children’s movie.

* * *

It takes her a few times to get the key in the lock and successfully turn it, as her hands are a wobbling, shaky mess.

On first glance, everything is as she left it. No mail except for a random advertisement and nothing new except for settled dust and dry leaves on the window-sill from her now lifeless plant.

They further check around.

Kitchen: nothing. Bathroom: nothing. Bedroom: nothing.

No signs of intruders anywhere—no odd changes, no left messages. In no cupboard, no box. Not in the storage room or the oven either. Her refrigerator is empty as ever.

Nobody came here.

It’s all the same.

“Guess you had luck”, Diego notes at last, sitting down on her couch as Vanya keeps on pacing around.

She gnaws at her lip, pulls at the skin around her nailbed.

“You okay, Vanya? You seem anxious.”

“ _I’m not_!”

The woman flinches at her own volume. “I’m not, I’m just…”

She comes to a halt in her endless walking and gives him a frustrated look.

“There’s nothing here, Diego.”

He narrows his eyes, interlocking his fingers as he rests his hands on his lap. “Should there be something?”

“I thought they’re after me, no? Why’d that guy harass people on the street for info on me and leave a message at _your_ place, just to not come here?”

“Maybe it isn’t the same guy! Maybe the first one was just a random lunatic who got his hands on your biography. We don’t know if the writing in the gym was really directed at you, and we cannot get behind his thought-process.”

Vanya rubs her eyes.

She feels goddamn tired and moody and _helpless_.

( _She hates it._

_She hates helplessness._

_She’s not a weak, fragile child anymore, is she_?)

“Then maybe I shouldn’t go back to the Academy with you.”

The words leave her mouth before she even gets to think about them. A shadow seeps through her face.

“Woah there. What do you mean?” Diego gets up from the sofa, very slowly stepping towards her, as if approaching a wild animal.

Vanya feels as though her speech is drawn from her involuntarily, but at the same time it is fully herself choosing the words.

“It’s just… it makes sense, right? Either it was never about me or I play a part in it. Consider this, Diego: I don’t have powers. I am Vanya, the grey mouse and black sheep of the family. None of you need me and I am _not_ part of the Umbrella Academy. I don’t belong in this business and have no place among you. The ‘Commission’ or whatever has no reason to hunt me down and by your side I am just a liability.”

Diego shakes his head from side to side, coming closer and closer.

Vanya’s face is hot with tears and stinging with salty pain as she talks, but she cannot even focus on that. Cannot focus on her nails digging into her palms, drawing crescent moons.

She can only think of the weight inside her chest, seemingly pushing outwards, and the loud sensation of tinnitus ringing in her ears.

“And _if_ I do play a part in this: then maybe I am just messing things up. Maybe the message was for me, maybe I am a target. Then I should just try and take the attention off you! If I’m here, maybe they’ll only come for me! You’ll stay safe at the mansion!”

Diego stumbles to the floor, tripping over nothing. He appears to have trouble keeping upright and in balance, but Vanya cannot grasp why.

“ _Vanya_! Vanya, you’re not thinking clear. Let’s just go home, we shouldn’t stay here.”

A sob escapes her lips.

“The Academy isn’t my _home_. It’s never been! I need to be _here_ and whatever comes at me, I’ll face. Whether it’s nothingness or a crazy stalker wanting to kill me _. Let me do what I want_ , for once in my life!”

Her shouts are growing louder and more distorted, but she is barely aware of it.

Diego’s pained face twists with pleas.

“Listen, you should do what’s right with you. But I’m your brother and I want to protect you. We should all stay _together_ —you even said it before, Vanny! _We’re a family_.”

Heavy noise sizzles in Vanya’s ears. “No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Leave me! Fucking leave, Diego!“

“You need to come with me, and we can-“

**“I said: _leave_!”**

There is a shatter, a boom and then a great, black void.

Then the world stills.

* * *

When Vanya comes back to her senses, she drops to the ground, her knees weak as butter.

All her windows and light-bulbs are in shards; her picture-frames have dropped to the floor and are broken as well; and everything seems to have been slammed towards the wall by a force that spread from her in a circular motion.

Vanya’s eyes dart across the room as she gets to her feet again.

“Diego? Diego!”

A groan alerts her. Her brother shakily gets up from behind a rubble of pillows, glass and wood. His forehead is bleeding slightly and he looks pale, but he stares back at her with clarity.

“What the fuck j-just happened?”

“I don’t know, I-… Do you think somebody attacked?”

“Attacked? No, no, no. That… that was y-you.”

“Me?” Her jaw drops in confusion.

 _Her_?

“Your _eyes_ -… they lit up for a second, all white, and your voice it basically… _exploded_!”

Her brother gets up and staggers towards her, clutching his stomach.

“You… you fucking have powers, Vanya!”

He points at her with an almost accusatory motion. She furrows her eyebrows in disbelief.

“It can’t be! I don’t have any. This must be… some sort of mistake!”

She looks around once more, seeing how the mess seemingly radiated from her. She _had_ felt a force, but she was sure it had just been emotion and nothing… _extra-ordinary_.

But then a sudden memory shoots across her vision, bright and fleeting as lightening.

_The tea-cup. The night before the funeral._

_It burst apart like that as well, right as she felt a strong sense of anger and disorientation._

Diego reaches for her with a tight grip and pulls her into a hug. Vanya can feel tears slide across her cheek, but does not perceive her own crying. She feels beside herself.

Everything is chaos.

“I have powers? Like you?”, she whispers against his shoulder.

“You do. I saw.”

Her throat is dry and her tongue feels too big and numb—like trying to move a lump of clay inside her mouth—as she speaks.

“I think I knew. Not _really,_ n-not as you did. But now that I know, I feel like I have before.”

Diego tightens his arms around her, gently but protectively. They stay like that for a while until Vanya pulls back to wipe at her cheeks.

“I don’t want you to have snot all over your outfit”, she quietly laughs, sniffing with tears.

“Right now, I wouldn’t care”, he replies, “But the others would for sure tease the shit out of me when we get back.”

Vanya can tell what he’s hinting at in his statement. They should return to the Academy.

To her surprise, her opposition from before has suddenly faded; as if there’d been an amass of energy, now drained in one go.

“What will we do about… _this_?” She gestures towards the shambles of what once was her living room.

Diego shrugs. “Problem for later. Now we should get back to our siblings. We have glorious news after all! You’ve got some fucking force, girl.”

Vanya shyly nods. “But we’ll ease into this, right? We’ll tell them slowly.”

Diego gives her an assuring smile.


	15. i'm holding my breath (with a baseball bat)

Allison’s thoughts are racing, partially too quick and vague for her to comprehend herself.

She’s planted herself on a little bench right outside their infirmary, head heavy with lack of sleep and one cheek swelling with a nasty bruise from the fight she’d just gone through, but she needs to stay awake and observant.

Behind the door to her right, Pogo and a freshly rebooted Grace are looking out for Luther who had come by some non-life-threatening but painful wounds. Seeing him, frame so weirdly small and vulnerable, lying on the operating table really gave Allison a scare.

A taste of the reality she is dealing with.

Besides that, she also got to see Luther’s body for the first in a long time. And he’s _changed_.

Not in a way a diet or work-out or simple aging play in; no, something must have happened to him. Something has deformed him, mutated him. But right now, Allison dreads asking, and she wouldn’t know who anyway. Though it seems both Grace and Pogo were unfazed by it.

Then, what else—not only has one brother passed out from his injuries, her other is _gone_.

Not Five, not Diego (who are both still absent as well, but with reason and plan); it’s Klaus.

The assassins took him with them. Kidnapped him and dragged him out the building.

And Allison could only watch as one intruder strangled her and tied her mouth shut, could only watch as everything descended into a violent chaos, spiraled into hell.

Her brother got taken by dangerous people right in front of her, and Allison was unable to save him.

 _Shit_.

She desperately hopes he’s not enduring hell as she helplessly waits here.

Now Allison is the only sibling left in this huge, damned mansion. Emptied of people but still full of haunting memories she isn’t looking to acknowledge.

Exhaustion takes upon her eyelids for a second, making them droop down and close, but a small noise stirs Allison awake again.

Peeking out from a room she sees Lila, face equal in restlessness and fear. The girl tip-toes over to Allison and sits down next to her. Her T-Shirt and baggy jeans already make her look much smaller than usual, but Allison can also tell she is shrinking in on herself.

“Your face looks bad.”

Allison knows to take the statement as it’s meant and cannot help but respond with what is intended to be a comforting smile. “The worse it looks, the less it hurts. I’m relieved you got out without a scratch.”

Lila pulls at the fabric of her pants. “I’d rather have helped. I don’t care if my face gets messed up.” Beneath her eyes there are traces of guilt.

Allison puts her arm around the girl’s shoulder and lets her lean into the motherly touch. “You’re a brave girl, and I can’t believe it, but Five actually raised you well. Still, you need to know your limits. That you’re safe is much more valuable than if you had fought—no matter how skilled you are, we were outnumbered and without the right tools to win anyway.”

The woman inhales, feeling the cool air fill her lungs. “You’re a child. You should be a child.”

Lila opens her mouth, as if to protest, but something makes her choose to just nod instead.

Quietly, Allison thinks back of how unaware she was, as a young girl, of how wrong their childhood was. How ignorant she was to all that abuse they were going through. Individual training, missions, ‘ _minor’_ punishments—now she sees just how fucked up it all was.

And how fucked up they all internally are from it, still.

As Lila shifts a bit from her position to rub her bleary eyes, Allison notices she’s been absentmindedly running her fingers through the child’s hair. Just as she would often do it with Claire.

“Sorry”, she mumbles, putting her hand down, “I got distracted. You just… I had to think of my daughter.”

Lila looks at her with big, knowing eyes. Allison can tell the girl notices a lot more than she might let on. She’s very attentive and knows how to connect the dots, just like Five.

“It felt… nice. Could you… could you maybe braid it? Five has tried doing it for me, but he sucks at it.”

Allison chuckles at that revelation and motions for Lila to turn a bit, so she can take care of her hair. The familiar, mirrored situation feels quite bittersweet.

The two of them start rambling a bit about topics here and there, to distract themselves from the awful evening they have found themselves in, and Allison even breaks into some full-bellied laughs at some of the anecdotes Lila shares.

Her imagination is quite vivid when hearing stories of Five failing to bake a dish so many times, he went outside in pouring rain to dramatically curse at the sky; or of Five having to take part in a parent-child stage-play in school, where he got the role of a literal tree; or of Five having a brief obsession with the Theremin, but not managing to play it well, so now it lay abandoned in their basement.

It seems truly peculiar to Allison, to envision her snarky and intelligent brother as such a homely and domestic person—but it also feels really warming.

They continue their talking session even after the braid is done, and as some time passes, Allison decides, out of sheer boredom, to loosen Lila’s hair once more, just to do it again.

For a while, things feel a bit more alright.

* * *

Nearing an hour before midnight, the front gates of the mansion open with a creak.

Allison and Lila shuffle down the stairs to see Diego and Vanya—one leaning heavily towards the other with a small cut on his forehead.

“Are you okay? Do you need medical care?”

Her brother shakes his head. “No, my leg just hurts a bit. Rest is merely bruises and small wounds—no stitches needed.”

Vanya leads Diego to sit down by the staircase and strokes her hair behind her ear. “What about you? Where’s the others?”

As she gets a closer look at Allison, she also adds: “God, what happened to your cheek?”

Allison immediately cringes at the question.

“Some people broke into the place. Luther’s in the infirmary, but he’s stable; mom’s taking care of him, since Pogo managed to repair her just in time. And Klaus…” The woman has trouble forcing the words off her tongue. “Klaus got kidnapped. But I don’t know where they took him and I couldn’t follow, and…”

“ _Shit_.”, Diego curses. “We’ll have to hunt them down as soon as we can.”

“And you others are all fine?”, Vanya softly asks.

“Yeah, Pogo and Lila were unharmed, luckily. And I got away. Those guys are goddamn skilled, I have to say. I could fend alright against one, but once several came at me it was over. They made sure to disable my speech right away.”

For a moment all of them are without words, trying to wrap their heads around the situation.

“Children!”, a voice suddenly calls out from behind. Grace elegantly descends down the staircase, expression bright as ever. “Are any of you in need of anything? Don’t worry, Luther is sleeping soundly—he’ll be fine.”

“Mom”, Diego beams, “You’re all good.”

“Why of course I am!”

He stands up to take her hand and Allison has to grin at the sight. Her brother always followed their mom around like a duckling when they were small, and he never stopped adoring her in almost childlike admiration.

“Did you guys find anything at the appartement?”, Lila inquires suddenly, tugging at Vanya’s sleeve.

“Right. About that…”, she mutters under her breath.

“Yeah, how did Diego get hurt in the first place? Did you get attacked as well?” Allison looks at her two siblings, who both seem to fumble with their words.

“Vanya, she…sh-she’s-”

Mom smiles at Diego, encouraging as always. “Picture the words in your head, Diego. Take your time.”

But Vanya beats him to it. “I’ve got powers. I accidentally did that to him.”

In an instance the room is dead-silent.

“Y-y-you what? But that can’t be, right? Dad would’ve known.”, Allison stammers confusedly.

“I guess not?”

“Are you really sure? You’ve never shown any signs, Vanya!”

Their mother tilts her head. “Well silly, of course Vanya has powers. She’s always had them.”

They all turn to the android woman, who seems unbothered by their stares.

“Mom? Are you certain of it?”, Allison looks around the room, “Are you… not confusing things again? I thought Pogo fixed you.”

“I did.” The chimpanzee calls out from the top of the stairs.

Grace hums in agreement. “I’m thinking quite clearly, dear.”

“What does this all mean?”, Diego responds, brows furrowed.

“Well, sweet children. Your father was quite aware of Vanya’s powers. She has the ability to convert soundwaves into energy, to put it simple.”

“So that’s what I did…”, their sister mutters.

Pogo clears his throat. “Your father kept a journal on all of your progress over the years. He put all his observations in there, including those on you, Vanya.”

“But why…”, Allison turns to him, “Why didn’t we know? Why could she never use them?”

The ape gazes into the distance for a while and then clasps his hands together. “I suppose it is time to tell you children all, then. It is also why I chose to enable Grace’s access to this information again, when I re-programmed her. Maybe we should sit down a bit.”

* * *

Gathered in the parlour, they wait for Pogo to recount the events.

“You were actually one of the kids to show powers quite early on, Miss Vanya. You’d cry and wail as a baby, and the windows in the nursery would shatter, furniture would break. It was very soon that Sir Reginald deemed your powers as the most dangerous and violent, even more than those of Number Six, as his were easier to keep under control.”

Allison watches her sister closely, who listens to the chimpanzee’s words with deep attention and a slightly twitching mouth.

“After you… well, after you ended up harming nannies during temper tantrums, possibly endangering your siblings as well—Sir Hargreeves took great precautions to make sure you don’t use your powers ever again. He felt you were unable to use them properly and did not want to take any risks.”

“So the asshole just took that part from her? And decided to tell her she’s boring and useless instead?”, Diego hisses, ears red with frustration.

“But how did he do that? How did I forget?”, Vanya whispers.

It hits Allison then, like an arrow straight in her chest. Memories deeply buried.

“I did it, didn’t I?”

Pogo seems to be unsure of his words as Allison stares straight at him, sudden tears welling up in her eyes. “ _Tell us, Pogo. I rumoured my sister, no?_ ”

The ape nods. “He made you rumour your sister to make her think she’s ordinary. Additionally, he built Grace to avoid the use of nannies, and then he put Vanya on medication, to further suppress her powers.”

Vanya draws back into the sofa. “Shit. Because my powers are tied to emotion, right? He made me feel numb _all my life_ , drowned me out with such a high dosage of pills—I would’ve never gotten my powers back hadn’t I randomly decided to go off my meds for a short while!”

“God, Vanya. I’m so sorry for all of it.” Allison reaches for her, wrapping her up in a tight hug.

“It’s... okay, it’s okay. You had no choice, Ally.”

Diego keeps rubbing circles along Vanya’s back as Allison scooches back again.

Vanya fidgets with her sleeves, taking a deep breath. “And you… you knew this all along?”

Pogo’s eyes fills with guilt as he squeezes them shut for a moment. “I did, and I dearly apologize, Miss Vanya. But I felt I had no other choice than to follow your father’s orders—I cannot change that now. All I can do to amend is provide you with information now.”

He sighs. “I would also give you Sir Reginald’s journal, but it seems to have gone missing the past weeks. It’s no longer to be found in his study.”

There is a weird expression on Vanya’s face, a strange mix of anger, sadness, confusion and relief.

“This is a lot to take in”, she shakily laughs.

Lila leans over to take her hand, and the two exchange a sweet smile.

The next moment, there is a familiar sound and a sensation of bright blue, as Five stumbles into the room.

“Good, you’re already here.”, he assesses, “Or well, not all of you.”

Allison is the first to stand up and reply as she wipes at her tear-stained, bruised cheeks. “Assassins came here. They left but took Klaus with them and Luther is injured and in the infirmary.”

Diego speaks up next. “Mom’s been repaired. She took good care of Luther; his wounds aren’t fatal. But we should make a plan to save Klaus as soon as possible, so if you know where these Commission assholes reside….”

There’s a quick bout of silence as all siblings turn to Vanya. Her eyes widen as she gets up.

“Oh and… and I’ve got powers.”

Instead of surprise, Five responds with a satisfied nod. “Huh, good. You already know.”

They all gape at him, but before they can further question, he cuts them off.

“Okay guys, so here’s the deal…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little Klaus and Ben here, but that shall change :)
> 
> Btw I have also published a new part to this series: a Halloween One-Shot with Five and Lila.
> 
> (Chapter title is a Mitski lyric)


	16. the children lose their minds (in such uncertain times)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New appearances.

“We’re in a bit of a tricky situation here.”

Lila watches as Five rolls back his shoulders to straighten his stance, seemingly bracing himself.

“There’s a lot of complicated stuff going on within the Commission; I think it just suffices to say that there is a group of dangerous assassins out there, wanting to make sure that we end up causing Doomsday—and that group is being led by The Handler.”

“ _Who_ now?”, Diego asks.

“The Handler. My former employer and the one who got me out of the Apocalypse. She’s a dangerous and manipulative person, that I can say, and I’m pretty sure we’ll have a hard time severing the strings she’s pulling at.”

Vanya looks up at them; Lila can tell she is a bit overwhelmed. “So what do we do? Where did you even get this info?”

Five puts his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “Same place I was told my sister Number Seven has powers. I met up with old acquaintances, former co-workers—whom I can assure are trying to save this world with us. Two of them should actually be coming any moment, to help us. I’m sure they can lead us to Klaus as well, as they have quite a broad access to information.”

“And those people, they know I have powers?”

Lila looks between the two siblings, sister and brother. Five takes quite a while to reply.

“They do, they _all_ do. And they might use anything they know to their advantage; I know they can.”

Vanya’s forehead creases at the ominous statement.

Allison steps closer into the semi-circle they’ve unintentionally formed. “Okay: So right now, there are some people on their way here to help us, right? Then we’ll go save Klaus, and what? We kill The Handler?”

“We _could_ try that; funnily enough I’ve tried doing that before. I was actually convinced I succeeded until a few hours ago.”

Diego gawks at Five. “Dude, you killed your employer?”

Five nods his head vaguely. “I shot her and she _didn’t_ die is what happened. But I did so to seal my deal with the Commission on my last day of work. Not one day more would I have wanted to spend bathing in sometimes innocent blood. And this _bitch_ , I swear, I hate her with every fiber of my being.”

Lila clears her throat. “Then it’s good we’ll take care of her, no?”

Five looks back at her, and she can tell there are things he isn’t saying. Not a new habit of his.

Suddenly, two people enter the room, as prior predicted. One is a blonde woman, appearing delicate at first glance, but with hands that seem capable of a firm grip and eyes that pierce a person with a certain strictness to them. The other is a man, a bit lanky and not very tall, with messy and brittle dark hair. He eyes the group with an awkward smile, but judging by her gut, Lila deems him to be a reliable and skilled fighter, even when he outwardly looks like an average middle-aged guy.

“Herb sent you?”, Five questions, already knowing the answer.

They both nod. “I’m Elliot and this is Sissy. It’s a pleasure meeting you guys!” The man goes to exchange handshakes with them all, in a twitchy, quick manner. “Especially you, Five. We never got to work closely after all.”

Five puts on a smile of business. “How will you two be of our assistance then?”

Sissy raises her eyebrows, slight smirk displayed. “Straight into it then; let's cut the crap. Elliot can lead you to where The Handler and her troupe are staying. They’re probably expecting you, but you’ll still have to sneak in—so you better leave soon, while it’s still dark out.”

“And you? What’s your purpose?”, Diego throws in, twirling a knife in his right hand, probably to keep a threatening aura.

The woman straightens her blouse, which has a vintage-y feel to it, and turns to Vanya. “I was hoping to stay here with your sister and take a look at her powers. I specialized in training employees at the Commission; so I can help you with control and technique, even though it is a different work-situation. We’ll figure something out, won’t we?” She winks at the last words.

Vanya gives the woman an almost shy, child-like nod. Lila would say she seems almost starstruck, but she might also just be tired and confused. (They all are, in the end.)

“It’s better if one of us stays with Luther anyway. I’m sure mom and Pogo would appreciate that.”, Allison determines.

Lila turns towards Five. She can read off of his face. “I should stay, too, huh? You won’t take me with you.”

He nods with a sorry but determined expression. “It’s safer, Lila. Maybe you can also train—or Grace can freshen your knowledge on first aid. Try and rest as well.”

Elliot points his chin towards the hallway behind them. “We’ve got a briefcase to travel. Better be quick still. Oh, and we’ve also taken some bulletproof vests with us, and communicational equipment; so if you could change into those before we leave…”

* * *

Lila knocks at Five’s door; a sound that inside this grand building resembles the patter of a raindrop against a window.

“Come in”, he immediately answers, probably having detected it’s her.

He’s already dressed and prepared as she closes the door behind her; fumbling with the wires of the small microphone still. “Crazy how my siblings and I spent our whole childhood fighting crime but never had anything as advanced as this. I've used it on some rare Commission occasions though...”

Lila wants to smile at him, but there is _something_ on her mind. Something she cannot ignore, that slowly gnaws all through her ribcage, numbing her face. She cannot look away.

Not anymore.

“Can I ask you something?”

Five stills and looks at her calmly. “If it’s not lengthy.”

Lila shrugs, her shoulders tense as a chill creeps up on her cheeks—different from the one she’d experienced many days ago. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Plopping down on his bed, she takes a deep breath, like drawing back the string of a bow. In that case, the arrows are her soon to be said words: waiting to be shot, waiting to leave her mouth.

(There it is. _A big thing. A goddamn big, big, big thing._ )

“What exactly was your last mission, Five?”

He just stares back at her at that question, but she can tell there is a lot running through his mind, right behind those grey, un-telling eyes. His jaw twitches just the slightest bit, but her gaze is studied to perceive it.

“You never told me, Five. Why did you find me? What were you doing there? Just give me a short answer, I don’t need more than that. Just a short, small answer.”

Lila does not cry, she does not tremble. She does not raise her voice or waver, and her eyes stay with his, almost as a confirmation of trust—though she believes that doesn’t come through to him.

She knows better than to be scared of the man in front of her. Knows better than to be angry.

“That day I was assigned, with two other Commission workers, to carry out several assassinations across London. One of them…”

The words seem stuck in his throat as he forcefully pulls them out, regret bleeding through his voice.

“One of the tasks was to kill your biological parents. I did not shoot them, but I watched the others as they did. And I understand this is a lot; too much to go through in this unfitting moment. I would’ve told you before, but-“

“You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. And I wish we could’ve chosen a better time, but if you’re asking _now_ , I’ll tell you _now_. The Handler, who gave out the orders, was probably out to take you for your powers, and thus she made us eliminate any reason she wouldn’t be able to take you. My part in this is… I know it’s not something to just be forgiven…”

Lila finally takes her eyes off him, an unbearable feeling welling up in her. “But it can’t be changed now, can it?”

Whispering her name Five rubs his hand across his face.

The girl gets up, slowly walking towards the door and pulling it open. The world around her seems like a fake, inverted version of what it used to be.

But maybe she’ll grow accustomed to it someday soon.

“I can’t… I can’t know what my life would’ve been like hadn’t you come into it, Five.”

Her voice cracks, almost unnoticeably, as she turns to him a last time. “But I would not wish for another life now, even when it causes me pain. We’re family.”

He does not reply.

"You guys stay safe out there. Return here in one piece, okay?" 

She disappears out into the hallway.

* * *

Soon enough, the others head on their mission, leaving Vanya and Lila to stay with Sissy, Grace, Pogo and a still sleeping Luther.

“You wanna train with us?”, Sissy drawls at the young girl, a hint of a Southern accent coming through as she seems to relax.

Vanya musters Lila with inviting eyes, and maybe a silent plea not to be left alone.

“Sure, but I’ll check on Luther first”, she responds, with a nonchalant wave of hand.

Sissy grins, something mischievous lurking behind her pearly teeth. “Good. I was thinking we all wear helmets for protection—I’ve brought some—and make sure we reduce the risk factors by as much as we can, wherever we train. So, little furniture, something soft on the floor… you know.”

Grace chimes in, helpful as ever. “We have special training rooms downstairs. There are mats on the floor, but I can also provide you with some pillows and blankets.”

“That’d be great. Would you guys show me those rooms then? We can get started immediately.”

The woman faces Lila once more, her blonde waves bouncing off her shoulder. “And you just come knock whenever you want to join.”

* * *

Lila watches as Luther lay still as a corpse.

His body is covered with a blanket, but she can still see a bit of his shoulders and arms. She’d caught a glimpse of it before as well, when she helped the others carry him to the infirmary after the fight.

It’s never been mentioned as one of his powers, that weird build of his. But, of course, she cannot know.

He’d looked horrible back there, covered in his own blood (and maybe also somebody else’s) and just completely out of it. Some words he’d mumbled under his breath, without clear context nor a person he was really talking to.

Just sounds into empty air.

 _Luther is a good guy_ , as far as good and bad humans exist, Lila knows.

He tries his best and it isn’t a lot and rarely suffices when trying to be a good brother and a leader, but he does not know better. He’s not been taught better.

Lila observes as his chest rises in even breaths, wonders how he’ll react when waking up to this mess.

She hasn’t even found it in herself to process it all, so she cannot imagine how difficult it will be for him.

Without the girl having noticed, Pogo has slipped into the room and come to her side.

“Miss Lila, you do not have to watch him. I’ll take care, don’t worry.”

The girl tries to twist her mouth into a smile, a sudden heaviness latching onto her features. “I know, I know. I just wanted to see him.”

The chimpanzee nods, his eyes directed towards the floor.

He looks… obedient? Uncomfortable? Uncertain?

Lila cannot pin-point it.

“Pogo, did you… did you witness the children grow up? Five, I mean. And all the others.”

He nods, with a bit of hesitation. “I did. I cannot say I raised them, but I was their teacher and sometimes assisted in training.” A smile creeps up on his face. “And I did play with them a few times, during their assigned break-hours..”

“How were they?”

“Their personalities, you mean? Their behaviour?”

Lila hums in confirmation.

“There is a lot to tell there. Though I think if you know their personalities now, you can imagine them as children. I must say still, that Five seems to have softened a lot around you. He seems a lot more… understanding and patient now.”

Pogo trails off a bit, in thought, but then continues.

“Sir Hargreeves caused the children a lot of pain, as he was a strict man, with no regards to children’s emotions. I owe him my life and my sole existence as the person I am, but I cannot deny that. I cannot deny what he did to the children.”

Lila waits a bit to speak up, uncertain of her words. “But you love them, don’t you? You care for them all.”

Pogo’s eyes shine under the warm light produced by the lamps. “They are all truly wonderful, talented and good-hearted. It was with a heavy conscience that I watched them fall apart as siblings, and I am glad they are working through this together, even if the impending problem is a great one. I’ve believed in them ever since they urged me to play hide-and-seek with them, red-cheeked and unsteady on their legs, and I believe in them even when they bicker and are without plan.”

Lila can feel her face ease at the statement. “It sure would be nice to have a plan, though.”

The ape huffs in laughter. “We’ll see about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Feel free to comment, as always.  
> The title is a quote from a song by Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos. 
> 
> The next chapters might be released a bit less frequently (though still quite regularly, I promise)


	17. i keep on tumbling till i hear the word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben. The man, the myth, the legend.

It takes an eternity and a half for Klaus to open his eyes, although time has become the strangest concept to Ben—temporal liquid trickling from his hands in varying amounts.

Some days pass him by in a flurry of color and sound, hours stuffed into a second.

But this—this moment had been forever; billions of rotations around the sun until Klaus finally comes to his senses.

His brother forces one eye open, immediately shutting it again with a groan, and then takes his time to blink away the pain of the bright lights from up above on the ceiling, exhaling shakily.

His fingers twitch, body tied tightly to a chair; every limb cuffed and bruised and bloodied.

“ _Klaus_! Klaus, can you hear me?”

Ben crouches down next to the man, hovering as though preparing to catch him if he loses balance and falls, even though he knows he cannot touch him.

“Klaus, _please_ answer. Come on, can you hear me?”

His brother’s head drops to one side, curls sticking to his forehead in sweat. “Shut up, _ghost_.”

_(There he is.)_

“Thank God. Listen Klaus, you need to make me corporeal, okay? We have to get out of here! _Now_!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me, I’m _terribly_ hungover.”, Klaus slurs, seemingly drifting off again.

Ben hisses through gritted teeth with frustration. “You’re not. You’ve been sober. Klaus! Klaus, _look at me_ , you’re sober, you’re not hungover. I know you’re hurting— _they tortured you_!—and if you don’t get out of here they might do it again _. Use your powers_!”

Klaus’ eyes widen, presumably struck with memories of what happened. He looks down at his body and moans: “ _Shit_ , my head’s gonna explode. You’re lucky I’m not making you tangible, you wouldn’t want my brain to splutter all over your clothing, would you? I bet it’d smell like-“

Ben cuts him off, raising one hand in a sigh. “There's no other way, Klaus. _Concentrate_.”

“On what, huh?! On _what_ , Ben?”

He does not know for sure either, does not know how his brother’s powers work.

No-one really knows anything about them, not even what his full abilities include—their father would often demand he go to greater lengths, reach greater heights. _“Number Four has not even scratched the surface of his potential!_ ”, Ben remembers hearing.

What he is certain of, though, is that Klaus is capable of _a lot._ And they need that to get out of this damned hideout or whatever it is.

“I took a stroll around the halls while you were out. Memorized some pathways. If you manifest me, I can free you and we can get out of here.”

Klaus whines. “Can we not wait for the others? I’m a modern, fabulous damsel in distress, Benny! I’m not equipped for this!”

“They can’t know your exact location, if they even manage to come here. And you need to save yourself for once. I can’t watch you waste your life away, Klaus. You’re not weak and you’re not on your own! We’ll do this together. Yes, you alone are capable of using your powers, but I’m with you.”

“Not even Lila can copy this curse…”, Klaus mutters, biting his chapped, blood-stained lower lip.

Ben exhales, stepping away a bit. “So, you with me?”

His brother nods, fluttering eyelashes framing his darkened eyes. He clenches his fists, sucking in a sharp breath, until they ignite with blue light as he visibly tenses all of his muscles and grunts.

Ben focuses on that otherworldly pull emerging from his sibling, wrapping around him like a thin layer over his disembodied spirit.

He can feel his senses reach back to him—scents faintly reaching his nose, the cold air making the hairs on his arms stand up, lights blinding his eyes. Time slows and at the same time it fastens.

“Keep going”, Ben whispers encouragingly, “I can feel your strength.”

Klaus’ mouth is dry as he pants, veins sticking out from the skin on his hands and neck. His feet press against the floor in a need for grounding.

And then Ben grabs his shoulders.

Grabs him without passing through him the slightest.

He frees his brother from all the sticky tape and the ropes and helps him get up from his prison of a simple wooden chair. They knock it over in the process and Ben can’t help but shortly run his hands over all the materials.

_(Back. He’s back._

_He can touch, feel. And smell and probably also taste.)_

Klaus’ gaze catches his as they stand up, big as a cat’s, mouth hanging open. “I did it, didn’t I?”

Ben grins back at him, dorky and euphoric. “You did it, dude. _Let’s escape_.”

* * *

Peeking around the next corner, Ben spots the first guard.

He signs back at Klaus, as they would often do as children on their Academy missions. “ _Man. Gun_.”

His brother looks away shortly, thinking. “ _Pacing or standing_?”

“ _Standing. I can tackle_?” Additionally, he mouths, “Can’t die a second time.”

Ben knows that he could also unleash the tentacles, still squirming by his diaphragm, from an other-dimensional opening embedded like a bullet in his solar plexus.

But it would be much too turbulent and dangerous to risk because of one guy, for now, and he dreads facing the Horrors inside him. He hasn’t in years and years.

Though he can always sense them, their hunger and greed—their starving and anger; in this moment stronger than ever.

As Klaus nods at him, Ben prepares to sprint to the side and carry out the ambush, as suddenly there is a weird noise, alerting them. It sounds like something soaring through the air, and is then followed by a choked gurgle.

Together, Ben and Klaus turn to catch a glimpse of the guard once more.

There is a knife stuck right in his throat, blood cleanly pooling from the wound on wall and ground. Both brothers immediately recognize the elegant weapon, that so gracefully curved from another corner; black handle and a sharp blade.

“ _Diego!_ ”, they both whisper-shout at each other, faces lighting up.

It is him, formerly _Number Two: The Kraken_ , accompanied by the next in line, their sister Allison.

“Oh my God!”, she calls out, reaching for Klaus the moment she sees him, “God, I’m so sorry they did this. I’m so sorry we’re only here now. _Shit_!” She wipes a bit of blood from his face.

Meanwhile Diego stands in the back, dumbstruck and still, as his jaw drops.

“ _B-Ben_.”

He awkwardly waves at him. “Hi, Dee.”

Klaus mumbles through Allison’s embrace. “Fresh from the summoning factory, the newest model of our dead but not gone Number Six.”

Allison pulls away in shock as her expression falters. Realization only hits her now; her eyes grow big and knees weaken.

“You-! _You’re here._ Klaus got you here!”

Ben feels a soft smile creeping up on his face, chest aching. “I was with him all along. But now…” He steps between Allison and Diego, taking one hand each in his, “…he’s also manifested me. I’m visible and solid, though we can’t know for how long.”

An unexpected tear slips down Diego’s cheek, lip trembling as it would back when they were little and got in trouble. “We missed you. I- I can’t believe it.”

Klaus stumbles to them, wrapping an arm around Ben. “Doesn’t this call for a group-hug before we all head out from here and possibly die causing an Apocalypse?”

Ben laughs quietly, eyes turning wet, pulling them all closer to himself. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

He can feel the warmth radiating from his siblings’ bodies, can feel their breaths on his skin, and Ben believes he can even sense their strong, lively heartbeats.

“Now we only need to finish this last mission off, so I can do this with everyone.”

* * *

They navigate through the maze of a building; a weird factory of some sort, filled with offices and secretary tables but no workers. Some of the rooms are even occupied by mannequins, staring back at them with lifeless eyes and unbreaking, eerie silence.

Ben would rather not question it.

A few times they are met with assassins, but they are taken out a lot easier now that the four of them work together— _The Rumour_ always being the quickest to save the day, with a simple, effective choice of words—and that they are partially armored and armed.

“Are Five and this Elliot-dude still not answering?”, Klaus asks impatiently as they hurry from room to room.

Diego checks his microphone and ear-piece again, as he has several times now, the past twenty minutes.

“Nope. It was all fine when we first split up. They were looking for The Handler, successfully killing off or knocking out some workers on the way… and then there was a crackle and they were gone.”

“Technical problems?” Ben raises the question.

Allison pulls one corner of her mouth to the side. “I don’t know… but I just don’t think so. Well, perhaps it got damaged in a fight.”

Diego agrees, pushing open the next door.

It leads to an iron-scaffolding, with a staircase descending down to the ground of what seems to be a hall reserved for business presentations. A grand auditorium with a stage at one end and rows of empty chairs. As the siblings enter and step on the elevated platform, it feels almost as if walking into an opera evening or an orchestral performance—except there’s barely anyone there.

Klaus squints and then points down to the floor beneath. “Found Five.”

Allison follows the direction of his finger. “Shit, yeah. There in the back is Elliot.”

“And the woman on the stage with him…”, Ben starts, voice shushed.

Diego finishes the sentence for him in a gruff tone. “…is The Handler.”

Ben strains his hearing, trying to make out what’s being said down there.

“…but if you come back, we can… you’ll just…”

He leans closer together with the others, attempting to follow the conversation as they stay in the shadows.

“…and your siblings, Five. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

Diego huffs. “Bitch is threatening him.”

“Should we go to them?”, Allison considers.

“Or kill her?”, Klaus adds.

Their brother shakes his head, hands ready on his knives. “Wait a bit. I feel like this is between Five and her right now.”

The Handler is touching Five’s cheek, stroking it in a gentle but clearly creepy way. Ben can see it on Five’s face, as her laughter echoes across the room.

“So how about _a deal_? A last one, for old time’s sake.”

The next moment she turns, face directed straight at them by the door. Ben does not know how she can even catch them from this distance and in this lighting, but she does. Her red lips curve into a smirk as she tuts: “Now, now. Normally you greet people when you enter the room.”

She places a hand on her hip, expression suddenly traced by something that could almost be described as disgust, plainly condescending. “Let’s get this over with, shall we, dear? I’m getting bored. Tired. Annoyed.”

Five grits his teeth looking at his siblings as Ben lurks by the wall. “I swear to God if you lay a finger on their bodies; if you even so harm a hair on their heads by the tiniest bit—I will end you.”

She shifts, looking at the man in front of her as if looking at a cute, little child. “ _Adorable_ ”, she coos, twirling her hair.

“Guys, should we-“, Ben trails off, turning to Klaus in habit, as he finally notices what’s happened.

His two brothers and sister have stilled completely, frozen in their positions in an unnatural stop of moment. It’s like time is standing still; or, Ben gathers, it has _literally_ paused.

It would not surprise him if a timeline-controlling company were capable of such.

(Time is a fickle thing, after all.)

Ben slowly walks along the wall, trying to stay as quiet and hidden as possible. This is his chance, and his chance only.

The Horrors inside his guts chant and rail in excitement.

“Time may have stopped for them, Five-y, but I sure won’t hesitate to shoot every single one of them. Straight between their hopeful eyes and in their not so innocent, flawed hearts.”

Five glares, stance changing as if ready to lunge at her. “ _You fucking bitch_ ”

“Oh darling” The Handler chirps, pulling a gun from an attachment by the side of her extravagant, silver outfit. “You were the one who tried to kill me first, _you stupid, snarky shithead_.”

She rolls the last words off her tongue as if giving a pet name, a loving compliment.

“But Five-y…”

“ _Stop. Calling. Me. That_.”

“Honey, I can forgive and maybe I can even forget. If you just come back to work and we continue being the sweet, sweet duo we were, we could-“

“Scratch that”, Five interrupts, face feral as he bares his teeth like a tiger bares its fangs.

“Then you can scratch your tiny idea of playing house with a bunch of practical strangers.”

She waves her chin towards the others and Ben cringes, hoping she doesn’t spot him.

“You come at _me_ , the one who saved you from the Apocalypse wasteland and took you in, re-socialized and cared for you, who gave you work and strengthened your skills and you tell me: ‘ _I need for the world to not end on the 5 th of May’_. The audacity, dear. The sheer _disrespect_.”

“Get to the point!”, Ben can hear his brother hiss, as he finally reaches the bottom of the stairs, but still meters away from the stage. He contemplates his next move.

“Always straight to business with you, I love it. You should feel honored I’m choosing the Fifth, you know? Fifth day of the fifth month for my beloved Number Five. But sure, I get it. You don’t want the world to end in a few weeks.”

The woman nonchalantly waves her hand holding the gun, making Five flinch with his fists prepared in a blue hue. She laughs.

“If you, want we can change that. I can make it happen in a few days, …few hours even! My newest helping hand is on its way to your sister _right now_ , if I’m not mistaken. Maybe he’s even storming the gates of the Academy this very second.”

“ _The Lion_ ”, Five concludes, voice low, “You’re sending him after Vanya.”

“She is _The Bomb_ , after all.”, The Handler states, as if reciting a geographical fact or easy math calculation. Ben tries to stop his breath from quickening and drawing attention to him in his hiding place. “Even though I could always make others blow up, as well. There’s something explosive in your possessions, Five. Something that belongs to me in the first place.”

Ben watches his brother’s grey eyes dull with terror. “You’re not getting Lila. And you’re not getting me either. None of us.”

“ _Watch me_.”

As The Handler raises her weapon, ready to strike, Ben loses it.

Shouting in fear, he sprints across the room, tentacles slowly slipping out from under his shirt. Ready to kill that woman, ready to catch any bullets she fires.

Ready to protect his family, from dying a death, cruel and too soon, as he did.

“Where did that rat crawl out from? I stopped time!”, The Handler voices in fury as Five’s face melts into both a hopeful and a scared picture.

Ben comes to a halt at the foot of the stage, a threatening pose as the tentacles line up around him, prepared for a bloody fight.

“ _Time moves weirdly when you’re a ghost_.”

Five’s eyebrows furrow as his knuckles turn white. “Ben- Ben, _shit_. You’re here.”

He nods, unable to suppress a smile. “Klaus manifested me.” He turns to The Handler. “And The Horrors as well.”

The woman’s face molds into an ugly anger as she cocks the gun towards Ben. “Your fucking family is robbing me of my last nerves, Five. I think I have no other choice but to kill them all.”

There’s a clicking noise as she steadies the hand holding the weapon. “And when I’m done here, meek, little Vanya will do the rest for me. I bet my lion is enjoying playing with his prey. Can you hear the bomb ticking, Five? Do you know now not to start games with me?”

As the gun fires, Ben can only see red.

 _Red, red, red_. All shades of it.

He feels one of the tentacles catch the bullet, sees two others wrapping themselves around The Handler, pushing Five out of the way.

The monsters squeeze her like a boa would, as she screams in pain and writhes like a worm.

_Hunger, hunger, hunger. Bloodlust._ _Fury._

The Horrors feed on her, kill her. Tear her apart with delight and ease. Ben knows that.

He cannot control their rampage, can only feel the gate in his body burst open as they finally break free after such a long time.

Five watches, occasional splutters of blood hitting him like specks of paint.

Ben’s vision turns blurry.

This is his chance, right? It might be the last chance he ever has at saving his family.

At doing _anything_ for his family.

The hatred and violence consume him—his own inner devouring him whole as more and more of the monsters break free from their cage; similar to what happened the day of his passing.

He is but a housing, he is aware. A door to a dimension so gruesome and thirsty for murder.

Right now, the door is wide open. And he cannot close it.

“ _Ben_!”, he can hear Five call for him.

There are other, desperate voices in the back as well, and from the corner of his eye Ben can see Elliot shuffle away on the ground in fear and instinct.

Time must be moving again.

“Ben! She’s dead! _You can stop now_!”, Five’s voice grows louder, cheeks smeared in blood.

Ben wants to stop, but he can feel the portal growing. Can feel it stretching, ripping, yanking a hole in his belly.

 _“You can do it, Ben! Your powers!”_ It’s Klaus.

They’re here with him. He saved them.

But not from all dangers.

Suddenly, dizzy and grunting in pain as The Horrors push and push him to the edge, Ben sees something.

Hears something.

Feels something.

His lips part, eyes close.

**_“Vanya.”_ **

(Ben falls.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer and closer to the end aaah.


	18. all the fear and the fire--of the end of the world

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t think this is working.”

Sissy puts the tuning fork she is holding down on the small table, next to the glass cup they placed there, and takes off her protective helmet, letting her blonde hair fall freely again. Vanya chews at her bottom lip, impatiently pacing across the room.

“I just don’t understand it. Like, what am I supposed to do? Wave my hands at it, do a little pose?”

“You’re supposed to focus on the sound of the fork and use it to shatter the glass.”, Sissy explains calmly, for what Vanya feels is practically the billionth time the past half hour.

Sitting down on the floor she stares at all the pillows and blankets they’ve put around them, to assure nobody gets wounded. At first it all scared her, the real implication that she could accidentally hurl someone through the air, but now the sight is almost mocking—it’s ridiculous to take this many precautions when she can’t even get the glass to move or whatever.

And these are supposed to be the powers even her father feared?

Sissy sits down next to her, cross-legged, while Vanya pretty much buries her face in her pulled up knees.

“No-one’s expecting you to have perfect control of your powers now.”, Sissy reminds her softly. Her eyes find Vanya’s with comfort and sincerity.

“I just… I just keep switching between giving too little or giving too much… It’s like I can’t do anything right! But I’m really trying, and I really want to do this. Then I can finally… I can finally feel like I can protect myself, and the people around me as well.”

Tugging loose strands of her wavy hair behind her ear, Sissy smiles warmly. “That’s really honorable, you know? Wanting to use your powers to defend and keep your loved ones safe.”

Vanya can feel a lump rising in her throat as she swallows drily. “But my powers are destructive, aren’t they? That’s what my father said.” She motions around the training room with her head. “And that’s what all of this says. I’m… dangerous. Or I _could_ be, if only I were able to channel any of my force willingly.”

She watches as the other woman gets up again, grabbing her weird helmet and tugging it under one arm.

“We are all capable of being dangerous, in a way. Yes, you and your siblings have more potential than the average human—but you also have more potential of being saviors, I guess. In the end it’s what you do and what you make of it. I’m a Commission worker, after all. I cannot speak of righteousness.”

Vanya’s guts churn; a sensation similar to when you stand in an elevator or sit in a plane and it unexpectedly drops. She does not feel like going back to futile attempts of training yet.

“Is my brother- Is Five really famous within the company?”, she asks, trying to keep up a conversation and hoping Lila hurries and intrudes any moment.

“He’s a legend, I guess. A myth, even.”, Sissy muses, “Apparently one of the most efficient and skilled workers they’ve ever had. I would also suppose that as ‘ _artificial’_ time-space-travelers we find it quite fascinating what his powers make him capable of.”

Vanya thinks back to the two of them as children. To watching him train with the others, hearing him share pieces of his complicated brain with her. “He’s always wanted to do things fast and effectively. No frippery, not the tiniest mistakes. But I think something still changed in him before he started working for the Commission. When he was still in the Apocalypse. He had already stopped being the Five I knew when he joined the work-place, I believe.”

Sissy seems to consider that notion for a while, a clouding of a thought seeming to take over her as she chooses her words carefully. “I think that there’s a paradigm… a pattern to when it comes to the agency’s recruitments.”

Vanya is unsure what the woman means, so she leaves her room to continue.

“The Commission looks for people with no other choice—people who are desperate and hopeless and lonely, perhaps. People who have, or at least see, no other way than to join them. No other option.”

A bitter expression carves into her feminine features. “I- I was recruited by The Handler as well, just as Number Five was. I grew up right outside of Dallas, never with much but always enough in my hands to consider myself lucky. Everything was good in my life: I married young, a proper man, and we had a beautiful son and lived on a nice farm together; a picture book family at first glance.”

“So what happened?”, Vanya rasps, hoping she’s not overstepping any boundaries.

“At some point I had to realize I can’t run from the dark when the dark is in myself. I was _unhappy_ , I was- I was not made for that relationship and it ruined something in me. And our boy, he had problems, you could say. Smart kid and pure, but he had what in _this_ era you would diagnose as Autism. But we were not from this time—we were in the Sixties, and all he was, was a strange, mute child—and all I was, was an incompetent, overworked mother.”

Sissy sighs, examining the helmet she is still holding, as if it were some sort of trophy or otherworldly being.

“I did not love my man. I never loved any men, in fact. Not like that. Not like I used to adore some girls in my class and not like I’d look at the woman who’d always greet me at the farmer’s market. But I loved my son, _truly and whole-heartedly_ , and I wanted us to be happy together, so I planned to take him. To escape with him to somewhere… perhaps more progressive. Just _away_ , is what I thought. But my husband stopped us and he was furious.”

Vanya can see Sissy's eyes shimmering, anger rising in her tone. “You don’t have to tell me, Sissy. I’m-“

“ _He shot him_.”, she states plainly, swaying a bit as she leans to steady herself on the table with one arm. “Wanted to shoot me, but my boy— _my lovely, beautiful_ _boy_ —moved in the way. And when he went cold my husband ran and ran and left me with his body, and he went and told the police it’s my fault.”

“ _Shit_ , I’m sorry, that’s… that’s so-“

“The police station. That’s where time suddenly stopped, and I met The Handler. Made the deal, got out of there. It’s been… it’s been a turbulent ride since then.”

Vanya thinks of what to say next—wanting to tell this woman she’s only known for such a short time, that everything would be alright and wanting to promise to protect her too, once she gets a hold of her powers, as silly as it sounds—when a sudden noise startles her.

It is not that loud, but her fine ears still take up on it, and she immediately senses something is off. Sissy does so, too; changing her demeanor in the blink of an eye.

“We should head out and see what’s going on.”, Vanya whispers, not taking her eyes off the door.

A bang and the shuffling of footsteps calls out from outside, as if to agree.

* * *

There is a strange man waiting for them in the parlor, armed with a rifle, pointed at them with calculation.

“If it isn’t for my _favorite_ person in the whole, wide world”, he drawls through his lion-mask, venom in his voice. Vanya imagines him to have the sharp teeth of a snake behind his disguise, licking over his fangs as he speaks.

“Wh-what do you want?”, she stammers, trying to still appear threatening, as she pulls her fingers into balled fists.

“You, Vanya. I want _you_. I mean, can’t you hear the clocks ticking? Can’t you hear the countdown? It’s like music to my ears. You should grab your violin and accompany this symphony of chaos! We should go and dance!”

“You’re not gonna dance with anyone here, _creep_.”, Sissy spits at him.

Meanwhile Vanya scans across the room. It takes her some time, but she can see Lila and mom peeking in from the hallway.

 _(_ Hopefully they’re safe back there _.)_

Pogo must be with Luther, in the infirmary.

“Why me?”, she faces the assassin again, holding her chin up high, “Why would you need _me_?”

The man chuckles- no, he laughs. A manic, uncontrolled shout of amusement, ringing through the air. He bends over a bit, as if his sides ache, but keeps his weapon in the air.

“Oh Vanya. Apple of my eye. Number Seven. The first of the children, if we count from behind. I desire you- _I need you_!”

Vanya steps further away from him, taken aback by his words. There’s something unhinged in his speech, as he draws every sound out. His mask stares back at her, lifeless, but she almost believes she can see the insane expressions he’s making on the motionless material as well.

“Well, are you here to kill me? To take me with you?”

He laughs even more, snorting and grunting occasionally, stomping the ground with one foot. “I don’t think I’ll be doing much killing here, Vanya. You might not believe me, but I’m not the monster here.”

The man finally stills, making a cocky sound. “You’re the lovely bomb and I’ll be the trigger, darling.”

“ _Shut up!_ ”, Sissy hisses at him.

“I’ll make _you_ shut up, blondie. I can blow the brain out of your skull any moment; can break every bone in your body—no matter how strong your armor, how fine your skills. I’m better.”

Vanya’s limbs grow cold and limp. She doesn’t know what to do.

(She should, though. She can’t always rely on being saved, on getting help. _She’s not defenseless_.)

The assassin fires a bullet at the ceiling without provocation and cheers for himself as everyone else flinches and pales. Vanya can feel her heart jump with the loud sound, as her knees buckle.

“ _Aww now_ , is The Bomb scared of a little bang? A tiny bullet?”

“Don’t- _don’t_ call me that!” Irritation pulsates through her.

“But Seven, that’s what you are. That’s your true nature!”

Vanya squeezes her eyes shut, grinds her teeth together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t-“

The lion-masked man giggles. “You’re truly a gem, aren’t you? Going to cause the Apocalypse but scared of a rifle. Sweet!” He strains his voice in an unusual, ugly way—making him sound like what Vanya pictures to be similar to a blood-thirsty hyena.

She can feel tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, her mouth tasting of blood as she bites at her own tongue. “Stop- you’re talking bullshit.”

Vanya can hear voices around her, making it out to be whispers (-or shouts?) of Sissy, and maybe even Lila and Grace, but the world is spinning and all that really reaches her is that man’s devious tone.

“They didn’t tell you, huh? Maybe they were just too scared—but I guess your siblings have always liked keeping secrets from you. They’re not really your family after all.”

“ _Stop_ ”, Vanya whimpers, “Please stop.”

“Stop what? You said all of that yourself, didn’t you? I read your book, Vanya. Great work, really. Truthful, most of all. Can’t say that of the Hargreeves normally, no?”

His voice is loud; louder than even the bullet, Vanya believes. Louder than her own heartbeat ringing in her head and louder than any murmuring voices trying to come near her.

“The only one you ever had was Five, but he left you. Now he’s back, but not the same. And most of all, he doesn’t love you anymore, does he? No, he’s terrified of you. Your powers. Why else would he not tell _you_ , of all people, that you’re the key to Doomsday—you’re the reason he spent years trapped in an Apocalypse! You caused him so much pain.”

Vanya cries. Desperately, like a little child, like a wailing ghost. Her mouth twists and twists, an ugly grimace with little resemblance to her normal self.

“ _Stop it_! I would never- I would never harm my family! I’m not a fucking bomb! I won’t hurt anyone!”

The Lion looks at her—she hears his tongue as it slides over his bared teeth.

“But Seven—you’re doing it _right now_.”

* * *

Vanya opens her eyes; white as the moon in the night-sky.

She takes in her surroundings and finally _sees_. Sees the chaos, the destruction.

There is a strong surge of power emerging from her: the ground is trembling, all furniture in shambles. All windows are shattered, light-bulbs as well.

It’s like her and the assassin are in the eye of the hurricane, standing opposite each other.

With Vanya’s blood rushing through her veins, energy bursts through the room. She looks around some more, sees Sissy knocked out on the floor behind her, Lila kneeling behind a damaged but still active Grace in fear, both trying to shield themselves from Vanya’s powers behind a tall book-shelf.

Luther is also there, with Pogo. She doesn’t know when they came in, didn’t notice; sees her brother still bruised and pale. He is calling out to her, she can tell by his moving lips.

But she can only hear white noise.

“I’m doing it.”, she whispers to herself, choked up, “I’m hurting them.”

“It’s your sole purpose”, the man tells her. “Vanya, _The Bomb_.”

(So that’s her codename now, she thinks. All her siblings and their superhero names; she’d always wished for one herself.

Well, there it is. The Bomb.

_She has all she’s always wanted. Powers, Name. Her family around her._

_But this is not how she wanted it to be._ )

Vanya can’t stop herself. The sadness, the anger. The fear. It’s not stopped by Luther trying to reach her, despair in his eyes. It’s not stopped by the hope that they can still accept her.

This is _the End_ , she concludes, as she feels her feet take off the ground. This is where she fucks up, for the last time at least.

But then she hears _something_ —finally something other than this unbearably violent noise.

There’s a voice, a calling. Soft and calm, as a leaf carried on the breeze, as the swing of a butterfly’s wing.

**“Vanya!”**

She turns in the air, clarity coming to her eyes again.

“Vanya!”

Her heart skips a beat.

“Vanya! Do you hear me?”

Something inside her breaks open as it clicks.

“Ben?”, she mumbles at first, then raising her voice with certainty, “ _Ben!_ ”

She cannot see him, can only hear his voice, but she knows he’s there. In some weird, unworldly way. He’s with her.

“Vanya! Vanya, please, don’t let them turn you into something you’re not.”

A sob escapes her lips. “But this- I can’t stop this! No-one can! Dad tried, and still I’m here destroying everything! I’m a ticking bomb!”

“You’re not.”

She can hear that Ben is smiling, can envision the light in his eyes.

“You’re not, V. Dad made you out to be a Bomb before you ever were one. And now, you are capable of learning to control your powers. I know it, Vanya. I believe in you. We all do. You’re our sister after all. Our strong, loved sister.”

Vanya tries to catch her breath, but something is pulling at her lungs.

“Why am I like this? _I’m wrecking everything. I can't stop myself!_ ”

“You never got to learn how to control yourself, but we’ll help you. Just come back to the ground, Vanya. Listen to my voice only. You’ll be alright. _Come back to the ground_. Listen to me.”

Vanya closes her eyes again, this time shutting them slowly.

Listen to Ben’s voice only. Listen to him, and only him.

She can do this. She can save her family, she can save herself. It’s about what you do and what you make of it. And Vanya won’t be The Bomb.

(Her feet reach the floor.)


	19. to look beyond the horizon and spot colours of happiness

When Five was thirteen years old, he jumped into the Apocalypse.

It’s an old story—in many parts still untold, stuck to the inside of his ribs with ash and tar—and most days that wasteland and the many sorrows that inhabited it feel lifetimes away to him.

But some wounds never heal; some scabs you pick at over and over again, for if the scars fade over time, then maybe the memories will, too. And Five cannot let himself forget.

The faces of his siblings, dead and grey and sticking out from the rubble; the sight of it haunts him. The scent of destruction and immortal chaos looming at every corner. A part of Five got lost in those ruins; it changed him. But it has also been a sole motivator to stop their impending doom from ever happening.

All that pain that struck him back there taught him lessons and valuable skills. All he went through lead him to where he is and who he is now.

So, Five cannot let those wounds heal—not just yet. Not when the world might still end.

Even if some moments he is catapulted back into that empty feeling of raw survival. Even if some rare days that wasteland is no longer moments over moments away, but right there.

Right in front of him.

(Five was thirteen when the world ended.

Sixteen years later he is still certain he can save it.)

* * *

When The Horrors break free from Ben—dead but not lifeless Number Six—Five can feel black mold growing inside his lungs, lurking and crawling up his trachea.

They all witness helplessly as their sibling struggles, tentacles tearing through his body with seemingly no end—too horrified to truly look but also unable to close their eyes.

But then, without clue to what incited it, something strange takes place. A miracle, an unknown force, an invisible hand of destiny manages to close the portal again, their brother dropping to the floor, murmuring words too quiet for them to hear.

Five watches as the others rush to his side, thanking God it is over.

Still, the damage is done.

The Handler is dead, crimson stains everywhere. A puddle of blood spreads around her in a circle, like an atom bomb. The color reminds Five of the dress she wore the day he met her. Same shade, same insanity screaming through it.

Five smells smoke, but when he looks around there is no fire. There’s only his terrified, concerned sister and brothers and Elliot still scrambling on the floor.

The building is not burning, the world has not been set ablaze.

( _But maybe that smoke beckons from the distance_ , Five thinks.

 ** _Vanya_** , a voice similar to what he once called Delores provides.)

“We need to get out of here”, Allison calls between sharp breaths as she kneels down next to an unresponsive Ben, his head twitching and turning from side to side.

Elliot runs a hand over his face, sweat dripping down his temples. “The briefcase we took is damaged. An assassin shot through it.”

“Fucking hell”, Diego mumbles, looking at the entrance behind them, “Do we walk?”

“No”, Five states after a minute of thinking, “I’ll jump us.”

His siblings exchange worried glances.

“Dude, you sure?”, Klaus asks, sounding unconvinced of the idea.

Five nods, leaving no room for other suggestions. He hops down from the stage, examining the blood-splatters on his suit. If the others noticed he’s switched to breathing shakily through his mouth, lazily covering his nose, then they don’t comment. He also gathers that they cannot smell what he smells, cannot taste any ash on their tongues.

“Hold on to each other, especially onto Ben. Blinking is a bit disorientating, but we have no other choice. I’ll get us as close to the Academy as I can.”, Five demands, avoiding their gazes.

Spatial jumping with other people is a tad bit different to calculate than jumps on his own; it’s especially difficult and straining now that he hasn’t done it in years, but Five is determined to do it anyway.

They have to get to Vanya.

That’s all that matters.

(And so they jump.)

* * *

For a second, when Five lands on the ground again, he thinks it’s too late.

Thinks he’s messed up again, thinks the world has found its fate.

As grey flakes tumble from the sky, he shields his face in an instant, trying not to breathe in the ashes—it would only end in violent coughs, he knows from experience.

( _You’re hallucinating_ , maybe-Delores suggests.

But no, he is not. The world also hasn’t ended, either.)

The Academy is still standing, Five sees, and his siblings are right next to him, clutching their stomachs as they dry-heave and stumble over each other; still upended by Five’s powers.

“Is it… snowing?”, Klaus gasps, reaching for Ben, who’s lying flat on the ground.

 _It is_ , Five finds.

There is a huge cloud directly over the mansion, thundering and glaring down upon them with frost. The cold storm seems to only paw at the entrance of the building, leaving the rest of the city's area unaffected.

“What the fuck is going on?” Diego is the first to successfully stand up on his legs again, shaking dirt off his shoulders.

Five parts his lips to answer, but somebody beats him to it.

“ _Vanya’s powers_ …”

Ben has opened his eyes again, exhausted and looking a bit translucent around the edges as Klaus’ powers start to weaken over time.

Immediately all siblings gather around their ghost-brother, helping him sit up.

“The assassin came for her; she lost control. I talked to her, though. I- We can help her, we-… _we need to go i-i-inside_ ”, Ben forces out, a stutter catching his speech, as he steadies himself on Klaus’ and Diego’s shoulders and gets on his feet.

Five nods at him, devoid of words. He is the first to head for the Academy gates.

He won’t let anybody hurt his sister.

He can’t.

* * *

The moment Five opens the door, he is blinded by a bright, colorless light.

It takes his eyes a bit of time to adjust until he can, still squinting, navigate through the remnants of their furniture.

The others follow him closely, Ben limping in with the help of his brothers while Elliot scans their environment with a raised gun.

 _Follow the source of the light_ , Five knows. _Find Vanya._

He spots her immediately when he enters their main living room, standing in the midst of debris with unnaturally white skin and glowing eyes. Her features are calm, he can tell. She smiles at them when they come in.

In front of her on the ground lay The Lion. His mask has been torn to shreds and his face is melted in—gory and no longer identifiable.

Five turns to his sister again, meeting her eye to eye. There is no force coming from her to push them back, but he still does not know if he can come near.

So, he extends his hand towards her.

“ _It’s over_ ”, he can hear himself say.

Behind him, the other siblings repeat his phrase, stepping closer. They form a half-circle around Vanya.

The woman blinks, her pupils turning normal again. Around them, the blinding light vanishes and the snow outside no longer rattles at the walls nor blows in through the shattered windows.

The world is quiet.

When Vanya faints, all her siblings catch her. She falls into their arms and they hold her carefully.

Ben laughs through his own tears, gently running a hand through Vanya’s hair as long as he’s still able to. “We made it. We’re all here, we’re all alive. Huh... except for me, you know.”

With a sudden noise in the back, Luther frees himself from furniture-pieces and glass-shards. They all grin like snot-nosed, giddy children as he joins them.

“Was anyone gonna tell me my sister has powers?”, he grumbles as they put their arms around him, “Or was I just supposed to find that out by having her knock me out and throw me across the room?”

“She didn’t mean to”, Allison whispers.

He chuckles. “I know. It’s cool.”

Five raises his eyebrows. “You’re taking this better than I expected, big guy.”

Luther rolls his eyes amusedly. “Maybe I have a concussion.”

“Sheesh- Could you guys be any louder?”

Vanya eyes them as she slowly comes to her senses again, still leaning into everybody’s touch. Her shoulders continue trembling a bit and her voice sounds hoarse, but there’s a balance exuding from her face.

“Is everything… okay?”, she hesitantly asks.

“We might have to renovate, honey”, Klaus jokes, curls hanging in his face, “But you know…’tis but a scratch to this ugly house.”

“Are _you_ okay?”, Five questions slowly, a soft spark in his grey eyes.

She nods, looking around what used to be the grand parlor.

“We’ll all be okay”, Ben adds, “Together.”

The seven of them laugh and cry at the same time.

* * *

Soon after, they are huddled up in the infirmary, tending to each other’s wounds. Pogo has to fix Grace’s damaged outer appearance, but thankfully her inner machinery had stayed intact.

The rest is surprisingly just bruises and small cuts for the most of them, nothing lethal.

Five feels almost out of place, unbelonging, with how homely and warm the atmosphere has quickly become, as he watches Vanya help Sissy wrap up a tiny slash on her arm with tender gestures, whilst Diego and Klaus bicker over who gets to choose their new interior design now that the inside of the mansion is in ruins, with Ben (no longer really solid but still visible) and Allison occasionally chiming in to add opinions and Luther failing at making any acceptable suggestions.

He’d missed this, he can admit to himself.

He’s missed them.

(But now he no longer has to.)

“Earth to Five, Earth to Five. Can you hear me?”

The man looks to the door where Lila is standing, leaning against the jamb for support. She’s holding a cold compress to the left side of her jaw, and her ankle is swollen, but other than that she is alright as well _. Safe and alive._

“What d’you need?”

“Uhm, hello? Can a child not talk to her dad without superior motives?” She puts on a fake pout as his lips curve into a smile only she gets to see.

Five takes a deep breath, slowly, as if to test it out; his lungs clear of ashes and tongue unsinged. There’s a soft feeling curling around his chest, right where his heart resides.

“I’m glad you’re alright, kid.”

( _His voice doesn’t crack_. That’s what he tries to tell himself.)

Lila walks up to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and hiding her face. But he can tell there’s a salty streak of tears threatening to spill over her cheeks.

“I’m glad as well. You actually all made it back in one piece, huh? I was so worried you’d come back missing someone, but you actually ended up returning with one more person then you left with.”

She hugs him a bit tighter. “I’m so, so happy you’re here.”

If Five’s eyes redden with emotion as well, he does not say so. It’s only between them, for now.

Only between him and his daughter.

* * *

Not an hour later, Herb arrives to pick his two co-workers up and talk to the siblings. One can tell solely by looking at his face that he is ecstatic, body quivering with positivity.

“Hargreeves! I knew you could do it, I _knew_ it!”

He bumps his fist into the air, using his other hand to swing his briefcase back and forth.

“So did we really do it? Is the Apocalypse prevented?”, Elliot speaks up first, his eyes opened wide.

Herb nods eagerly, grinning so widely it looks like the corners of his mouth are tugged behind his ears. “I checked. I checked on the Infinite Switchboard, I checked all the files, I checked all the calculations. It’s over! The timeline’s safe, the world’s gonna keep on standing as it is.”

“ _Shit._ We actually did it! Successful mission, you guys!”, Klaus exclaims, throwing his arms up as if to touch the sky.

Five takes a moment to ground himself. _They did it, they did it, they did it._ The Apocalypse he once witnessed will never take place.

His family is safe. His family is with him.

And the breeze smells of spring and new beginnings.

“What’s the plan now?”, Luther asks, directed at the family. For a minute or two, they exchange looks of telepathic communication (which ends up working just as well as their everyday communication.)

Herb raises a hand to get their attention once more. “I do have to say, even though Doomsday has officially been crossed out of the universal calendar”, he gulps, “There are still maybe some assassins left out there. I don’t think they’re much of a problem, but if you stay in this town they might find and bother you.”

It is Pogo who speaks up next. “I don’t think _this_ is the place for you children anyway. The Academy has brought you much grief and trauma over the years, and now it’s destroyed and withered and a sad sight. Maybe think of a start rooted somewhere else.”

Lila tugs at Five’s sleeve. “How about our house?”

As he turns to his siblings with a questioning look, they greet him with bright smiles.

“We could try that”, Vanya suggests, “We’ll figure it out, right? We have all the time now.”

Herb motions for Sissy and Elliot to come closer. “And we’ll be busy building up the Commission again. A better system, this time.”

Sissy bats her eyes at Vanya, uncharacteristically shy. “We might check up on you once in a while. Just to make sure you’re faring well.”

“I’ll be staying here”, Pogo states, “But we’ll keep in touch as well, dear children. And If I can offer my help to your company…”, he turns to the three time-traveling-workers, “…I’d be delighted to hear from you as well.”

With a firm nod and last goodbyes, only for now, they open their briefcase and disappear.

As for the Hargreeves, it’s time to plan their next step.

This time steering away from bare survival and looking for _happiness_ , for once in their lives.

(Happiness, together.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adihbhgsfjks last chapter coming soon!!
> 
> I'm so happy about all of you who have tagged along on this ride (my first lengthy fic!) and I'm grateful for every comment and kudo and even silent reader.
> 
> As for the future, there will be another part of this series. Taking place after this and probably less plot-driven, just family time and feels. Maybe also more One-Shots, who knows. I'm ready to further explore the world of writing :)))
> 
> Have a nice day and take care!


	20. and so we stay and rest and wait to see

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roll the credits, everybody!

…If there’s one thing Lila Hargreeves Pitts believes in, it’s her gut feeling.

It’s a strange sensation, feeling as though a cold hit of air is crawling up her cheeks and temples like tiny, thin-legged insects, when the sun above shines bright as ever from its throne in the baby-blue sky. Stronger than most days it soaks her skin in a chill, and so, Lila takes a deep breath to focus on what her intuition is trying to tell her behind her closed eyelids: looking for a way to calm the restless sea of emotion inside her.

Change is coming, once more. Not rising from ashes, but breaking out of soil; still a tiny sprout that is bound to grow tall and strong.

This time she can see it clearly, see what her red string of fate is tied to—even if only in shapes and shades in the distance. There's hope and there's happiness, bright and welcoming.

Her gut feeling is never wrong, Lila is certain, whether vague or oddly specific.

( _Expect the unexpected; in the most beautiful way_.)

Eyelids fluttering open again, Lila watches as her family members drag out all their belongings from inside the Academy to the old van they’ll be taking. The car is already stuffed and she can only imagine how marvelous it will be: nine people squeezed in one cramped space for about two hours of bumpy, winding roads. Still they all insist on keeping a seat free for Ben, whom Klaus can momentarily not conjure, but who they will still try to treat as though he’s right there (since he actually is.)

The next moment, Five meanders his way through the crowd of his hard-working siblings and their luggage, tossing Lila a small plastic bag the color of the cloudless horizon.

“Guess what”, he calls over the noise of the others until he seats himself next to her on the front yard wooden bench, “We found some old CDs. Thought you might like those, now that we’ll have a working car-radio during the ride.”

She gives him a lopsided grin, examining the records. To her surprise it is mostly punk rock and grungy stuff.

“Don’t question it.”, Five dismisses with a wave of hand as Diego chips in, slamming the trunk of the van closed.

“Those are mine. Or they used to be. You can ask Luther for his vinyl collection later, if that’s not your kind of scene. Wouldn't recommend his stuff though: the man's got no taste.”

The girl chuckles. “It’s fine, really. Let’s check these out in the car later.”

She pulls out the album that is last in the pile, buried under all else. The package has no cover, no printing on it—just a faceless disk in clear plastic. As Lila further examines it, she can make out faded writing on the side: it says “ _Prime-8s_ ”.

“What’s that?”

Diego’s expression turns sheepish as he scratches the back of his head. “Hah. Some original stuff from when Vanya and I had our band.”

It’s Five’s turn to be curious. “You did? The two of you?”

Vanya’s eyes have a bashful twinkle to them as she turns from where she’s standing nearby.

“It was a short thing.”, she elbows her brother gently in the side, careful not to hit any of his knives, “But a _good_ thing. Maybe I’ll give you the opportunity to witness a live performance if we listen to it on the road.”

Lila quirks up a brow. “I gotta see this then, Aunt V.”

Five ruffles the girl’s hair, laughing at her yelp of indignation. “That’s our cue to get going, I think.”

* * *

“What’s the plan now, _liebste Geschwister_?” Klaus yawns as he sprawls out in his seat, ignoring as Diego kicks his ankles. “Or are we just winging it as always, randomly moving in a house? I, for one, do not object, as long as I get my space for morning yoga to the heavenly sound of Britney Spears.”

Allison rolls her eyes. “Since when do you engage in any physical activity? Last time I checked you had the athletic grace of a wet noodle, which is astounding considering how we grew up.”

“We should come up with some kind of plan though-”, Vanya throws in, “I’d rather not bicker over who sleeps where and whatever once the night approaches.”

The others hum in defeated agreement.

Lila looks at Five with expectation. He gives his sisters and brothers a quick glance in the back between focusing on the road and the navigation device.

“Actually, I was thinking… How about _this_ : Lila’s bedroom is a bit smaller than mine, so maybe if I sleep on her floor, then you— _Klaus, Diego, Luther and Ben_ —can take over my room. That would leave for Vanya and Allison to occupy the pull-out couch. Et voila.”

“What about mom?”, Diego immediately asks.

“I can build her charging station into my study. Won’t be needing it as much anymore, so if you’d like, mom, you could make it your own? It’s fairly small, I fear, but we can hang up paintings and get some plants, …all that stuff.”

Grace beams, mesmerizing as ever to Lila. She cannot believe this woman is her grandmother.

“Thank you very much, Five. We can all work on it together.”

“We’ll see about the rest, won’t we?”, Luther joins in softly, “Things don’t have to stay the way we make them now, we’re just gonna do what’s best in the moment.”

Vanya adjusts her seatbelt and smiles. “Yes. And we can all still think about jobs and whatnot.”

“True”, Allison adds, “For now, I’ll focus on you guys and on my court dates to see Claire soon—no need to look for big work opportunities right away. We have enough money anyway- …If we combine all our bank accounts together on top of our inheritance we’re basically swimming in gold.”

Klaus whistles. “Sounds like the perfect opportunity to get a pool, don’t you think? And a sauna and dance studio and…-oh, _and_ several lobsters!”

This time Klaus cannot ignore the kicks Diego sends his way, releasing a high-pitched noise of pain.

“Only if you cook ‘em yourself, idiot.”

The man gasps dramatically, clutching the fabric of his polka-dotted blouse around his chest. “Not to _eat_ , you evil son of a bitch-“

“Language!”, Grace demands, tone kept light under her frown.

“-but to keep as _friends_! They’re magical creatures, Dee. I mean, have you seen them? Think of all the beautiful names we could give them!”

Klaus waves his hands as if painting a picture that none of them can see (and they’re really glad they can’t.)

“Oh come on! Ben likes the idea!” (They all know he doesn’t)

Five scoffs from the driver’s seat. “Goodness, maybe I already regret helping save your asses. And don’t pull poor Ben into your insanities, Klaus. I do have to admit though, a pet sounds nice. Maybe a dog?” He specifically shoots Lila a warm look through the rear-view mirror.

( _A puppy would truly sound perfect_.)

“You know, you can all focus on hobbies now”, the girl additionally suggests after a bit of silence, “I’m sure there’s lots of stuff none of us have had time to try out.”

“You’re right.” Luther leans back in his seat. “And mom’s out of the Academy for the first time now.”

“Well, sounds like we’ll have lots of trips to the cinema then. And shops and restaurants and art galleries and… there’s even a botanical garden nearby.”, Lila lists off.

Grace squeezes her shoulder shortly, leaning over Vanya who sits between them. “That sounds great, darling.”

“We can add that to family nights and road trips”, Allison muses.

“I’m sure we’ll find a day for everything”, Five comments from the front.

A giddy feeling inside of Lila tells her that it’s true.

* * *

Turning onto the highway, her father finally cranks up the radio.

Low bass and screechy guitar chords start blowing out of the speakers right as the very first second hits, both accompanied by slightly disorientating but fascinating percussion.

Vanya and Diego face each other the moment they recognize the music, devilish smirks sneaking onto their faces like a dreadful disease of returning teenage euphoria. The two of them start yelling the lyrics, in true _Prime-8s_ fashion; at the top of their lungs, slapping their thighs to the beat and banging their heads.

The text is moody and uniquely phrased, but a bit repetitive and most of all easy to memorize, and soon enough all Hargreeves join in on the chorus.

Vanya even sing-screams a nice harmony on top (carefree demeanor though she makes sure not to accidentally unleash her powers) as Diego imitates some of the Instrumentals and Klaus does a horrible attempt at beat-boxing. Lila cannot help but double over, holding her aching belly as she laughs with her whole body.

They do this throughout the whole assemblance of experimental, weirdly structured songs; a set-up of amateur rock-stars celebrating life through an album written long ago out of rebellion, rage and raving hormonal imbalance—a glorious concert of 45 minutes.

“Did you write those words?”, Allison nudges Vanya as the last notes of a track so delicately called ‘ _A hymn of intolerance and never learning to shut up’_ fade out.

The woman nods, sighing with nostalgia. “You know, maybe I should take up writing again”

Lila can tell she hesitates with the statement, nervousness crossing her face. But none of them jab at her for it, nor shoot her a glare.

“You’re good at it”, Diego croaks, throat already turning sore from his prior screamo attacks, “Do whatever you feel like.”

“ _Heck yeah!”,_ Klaus chirps up, “Give it your all, Vanny. Benny-boy and I want to be the first to read, of course.”

“I’ve been wanting to write poetry for a while now. Or short stories. Who knows? Maybe I should think of training my powers first, before I make any other personal plans.”

“Don’t overthink it. Whatever the future harbors, whatever we do”, Five murmurs, “We’ll manage as a family.”

_A family_. The word rings through Lila’s brain _. They’re a family—whatever that includes, however that works. They stick together._

And they really managed to prevent the end of all human life, huh?

Gazing out the window like a movie character in one of those dramatic Coming of Age stories, Lila watches fields and forests pass them by as the landscape turns more and more familiar. They are getting closer and closer to her hometown. _To their house_.

“How about we go to the lake today?” The question leaves her lips without thinking. “We could have a campfire and all.”

“Sure.” She can hear the smile in Five’s low and gentle voice.

“To celebrate, all of us.”, Lila adds, eyes on the sky—her heart a steady drum.

The words taste of new beginnings and sound of days filled with laughter.

* * *

(And so they stay together, as a family.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh mah gawd I cannot believe it. It's over.  
> I finished my first ever chaptered work.
> 
> Thank you for joining me on this adventure and I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave comments!
> 
> As I said, there will be a sequel. I haven't outlined my plans yet, but I certainly have ideas for chapters already (and other works as well). We'll see how it works out for me next to school stress and demotivation, yay!
> 
> Looking back on these 20 chapters I can certainly see flaws in execution and writing, but I'm really happy about how it turned out--I've never done this before, so yeah. And I hope my English was good enough (can't really tell as a non-native speaker) and that you all liked the plot.
> 
> Love to you all and stay safe and happy.
> 
> <3


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